V  \  \ 

v    \\|    1 


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SIB 


J  •  ••' 

' 


........ 


....  •      . 

.".         •   -  :• 


THE 


GIFT  FOR  ALL  SEASONS, 


WITH 


ani  dlcgant  x 


"Pailh.-IIope,-  -Ohari.f .' 


NEW    YORK: 

PUBLISHED  BY  LEAVITT  &  ALLEN, 

NO.  879  BEOADWAY. 


MASONIC  literature — rich  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  antiquity 
of  the  Prefer  Ite  growth  and  maturity — while  it  affords  much 
to  illustrate  the  genial  influence  of  its  principles  upon  the 
domestic,  and  the  social  circle,  has  hitherto  lacked  that  attrac- 
tive form,  so  fitting  for  Gift  Books,  and  which  has  been  adopted 
with  so  much  advantage  by  other  social  organizations.  Almost 
every  society  and  order,  has  its  Souvenir,  or  Offering,  or 
Annual  ;  and  the  IDEA  associated  with  these  caskets  of  choice 
literature,  that  which  makes  them  valuable,  is  at  once  a  princi- 
ple and  an  inculcation  of  our  Order 

The  Editors  of  this  volume  have  attempted  to  furnish  a  clus- 
ter from  the  field  of  thought  and  feeling  cultivated  under  the 
broad  sheen  of  our  cherished  institutions,  that  shall  be  agree- 
able to  the  taste  of  the  fraternity.  That  they  may  not  have 
made  the  most  desirable  selections  in  all  cases  is  quite  probable, 
but  they  do  not  hesitate  to  commit  their  work  to  the  friendly 
criticism  of  those  to  whom  it  is  inscribed,  nor  do  they  enter- 
tain the  fear  that  they  have  entirely  failed  in  the  enterprise  to 
which  they  have  applied  their  efforts. 


912739 


ZSS  Vifl  JlfZOIt, 


•».».* 


rAnrrn  PAOI 

BEAUTY        ....  Corbeaox     -       -       -    FRONTISPIECE 

PRESENTATION  PLATE  Illuminated      -       -       BEFORE  TITLE 

JUSTICE  Westall 42 

FAITH        ....       Dubufe 80 

HOPE Dubufe 148 

CHARITY  -       -               .  Dubufe  -                                           200 


MASONIC  CHARITY 9 

ANCIENT  MYSTERIES.    .        .         Comp.  Bradley.        .  18 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  FREEMASONRY.  ......  16 

A  SPRING  MELODY.       .        .        Miss  M.  J.  E.  Knox.  .        .     33 

WOMAN'S  LOVE.      .        .         .        John  T.  Mayo.         .  .        .84 

THE  MASONIC  LADDER.          ....  42 

THREE  PILLARS  OF  MASONRY 68 

HYMN  TO  CHARITY .             71 

MASONRY  A  REPUBLICAN  IN-  )  ~g 

STITUTION.  5 

°N  PoEMsNG  MR8'  HEMAN8'  }  Ms*  M.  J.  E.  Knox.  .  .  79 
MOSES  AT  THE  BURNING  BUSH.  F.  J.  Otterson.  .  .  .81 
A  DAY  o'  LOVE.  .  .  .  John  Boyle.  ....  84 

LINES .'/  Young  Lady  born  Blind.     .    86 

JANE  WILLSON. — A  Sketch  Almanzor.         .        .        .        .87 

LINPOE?ESTSHE     DEATH    °F    "I      J'    °'  Ha8™ I™ 

THE  LIGHT-HOUSE.  .  .  Alfred  A.  Phillips.  .  .  .111 
To  *  *  *  *. — A  Response.  .  Duncan  Gray.  .  .  .  119 

JENEAS. 122 

SECRETS  OF  MASONRY.          .        .  123 

MASONIC  ODE.  A  Workman  of  the  Temple.    .  126 

THE  PRESSGANG »  128 

THE  RECLAIMED.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Alice  C.  Hallock.  .  .  141 
MIRTHARESSA.  .  .  .  J.  B.  Murphy.  .  ,  .  149 

THE  WEDDING 162 

A  THOUGHT  .  166 


riii  CONTENTS. 


Page 

DALCHO'S  ELEGANT  APOLOGY  >  ^ 

TO  THE  LADIES.  )    * 

THE  SPIRITUAL  APPRENTICE'S  >  1  rft 

SONG.  $    ' 

JOSHUA  ............  169 

Aw    OLD   MANUSCRIPT  .........  161 

MASONIC  COUNSEL  :  —  Charges. 


Addresses,  etc. 
MASONRY  A  UNIVERSAL  RELIGION  .....  .  206 

GERMAN  PRECEPT.       .            *  .....  211 

SHIBBOLETH  .........  212 

CONSTANTINETALBOT.—  ARO-)       Tn«**fMni*  O1Q 

mance  in  Miniature.  ]    James  Adair.    .        . 

MASONRY  IN  1776.        .        .        John  D.  Hoyt.        .  238 

THE  MASTER'S  SONG.    .        .        Dr.  Anderson.          .  248 

THE  FOUR  CARDINAL  VIRTUES  .......  250 

MASONIC  MAXIM  .....  *    .....  261 

THE  FATAL  PREDICTION.      .        J.  C.  Hagen.    .        .        .  252 

MASONIC  SONG  ..........  254 

MASONIC  HYMN  ..........  266 

THEPATRIOT-MA.ON.OFOUR)    BrOt  Caleb  Atwater.  256 

COUNTRY.  } 

THE  MASON-'S  BOAST  ........  261 

THE  TEMPLE.  9Ao 


A80IIC  CftAHXT. 


IN  introducing  this  work  to  the  notice  of  the  noble  and 
ancient  Order  of  Masons,  we  do  so,  impressed  that,  although 
the  harvest  is  ripe,  the  laborers  are  comparatively  few. 
We  have  been  subjected  to  the  storms  of  life,  as  well  aa 
the  sunshine ;  and  with  that  experience,  (for  no  experi- 
ence is  so  valuable  as  that  which  affords  a  personal  evi- 
dence— which  evidence  we  can  indubitably  assert  we  are 
in  possession  of,)  we  feel  that  we  cannot  do  less  than, 
address  the  Masonic  Fraternity  on  a  subject  they  well 
understand.  We  trust  they  will  do  us  the  credit  to  believe, 
that  in  the  publication  of  this  Annual,  we  are  not  led  to  the 
adoption  of  this,  our  first  attempt  in  this  way,  from  motives 
of  selfishness  or  pecuniary  reward.  We  can  candidly  say, 
such  is  not  our  feeling.  Our  highest  anticipation  is,  that  a 
work  may  be  presented  that  will  teach  the  principles  we 
espouse,  and  also  be  beneficial,  not  only  to  the  members  of 


10 


M  A  &  Q  ft  f  I!    .CHARITY. 


the  Qir'fe  bi^;«fr§>uLd  it  lull  within  the  notice  of  those  who 
are  not  at  present  associated  with  us,  that  they  may,  by  the 
precepts  here  taught,  become  wiser  and  better.  The  Order 
itself  has  one  main  object,  "  Universal  Good ;"  and  in  its 
dispensations,  its  view  is  to  establish  that  great  moral 
truth,  "Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  This  command 
must  be  admitted  by  every  thoughtful  individual  to  be 
essential  to  the  duties  and  obligations  we  owe  to  each 
other  as  members  of  the  vast  brotherhood  of  humanity. 
A  source,  no  matter  how  unpretending  in  its  influence, 
that  has  humanity  for  its  standard,  cannot,  we  feel  con- 
vinced, prove  unavailable  in  its  appeal  to  the  judgment  of 
the  discerning  and  honest  portion  of  community.  The 
effects  of  any  society  are  proved  by  its  operations ;  and  it  is 
unnecessary  to  observe,  that  the  Masonic  Order  has  at  all 
times  elicited  a  very  warm  sympathy  for  every  individual 
within  the  limits  of  its  influence.  Nor  has  it  been  back- 
ward in  administering  to  the  numerous  wants  of  those  not 
connected  with  it.  "  Charity,  or  Love,  is  pure;"  it  knows 
no  bounds,  and,  as  such,  is  and  ought  to  be  open  to  all.  It 
knows  no  ill ;  and  though  it  may  have  many  claimants  upon 
its  philanthropy,  yet  it  is  not  adverse  to  the  general  relief 
of  necessity,  wherever  it  may  exist. 

The  study  of  the  leading  axioms  of  this  Order  leads  an 
individual  to  know  himself,  and  this  is  a  grand  first  prin- 
ciple ;  for  if  Man  knows  himself,  he  must,  "  ex  necessitate," 
see  that,  as  a  creature  of  circumstance?,  there  is  not  a 
moment  of  his  life  but  affords  the  evidence  that  he  is  in- 
debted to  his  fellow-man  for  something.  Every  day'* 


MASONIC      CHARITY. 


transactions  naturally  show  him  that  he  is  a  dependent 
being,  resting  for,  in  fact,  all  his  comforts  upon  more  or 
less  exertion  of  his  fellow-man.  This  being  admitted, 
ought  he  not  to  reciprocate  this  feeling,  and  so  carry 
out  the  force  of  his  own  convictions  ?  Most  assuredly  he 
ought,  and  with  the  most  perfect  and  unbiased  preten- 
sions. And  as  a  very  large  portion  of  society  is  subject 
to  reverse  of  fortune,  the  members  of  this  ancient  Order 
have  laid  down  a  means  of  alleviation  where  such  was  the 
case.  The  principal  reverse  alluded  to  is  that  of  unfore- 
seen misfortune  —  Sickness,  whether  by  accident,  or  from 
natural  causes.  In  this  case  the  afflicted  are  provided  for. 
Nor  does  it  end  here  ;  for,  exclusive  of  the  constitutional 
regulations,  many  a  brother's  private  means  are  freely  open 
to  the  pressing  requirements  of  the  unfortunate.  Should 
the  arch  arrow  of  death  overpower  the  means  applied,  still, 
to  the  last  moment  of  existence,  no  exertions  are  left 
untried  to  effect  the  power  of  human  skill  ;  and  in  the  event 
of  decease,  the  dying  Mason,  as  the  lamp  of  life  gradually 
fades,  has  this  consolation,  that  he  can  look  upon  the  fond 
partner  of  his  life,  and  the  offspring  of  his  love,  and  say, 
"  These  are  cared  for."  Oh,  what  consolation  to  the  poor 
son  of  earth,  that  can  carry  this  comfort  to  his  heart,  faint- 
ing with  the  ravages  of  death  !  —  that  he  can  smile  upon 
that  wife,  —  upon  those  children,  —  and  know  he  has  no  need 
of  a  solitary  pang  for  their  future  condition,  when  his  head 
shall  be  laid  in  the  grave  !  Death  has  its  terrors  —  the 
bravest  have  felt  them  —  but  when  the  glassy  eye  can  look 
upon  its  objects  of  endearment,  and  feel  the  assurance  of 


12  MASONIC     CHARITY. 

provision  for  those  lie  loves  in  life,  how  greatly  are  those 
terrors  assuaged !  An  allowance  to  the  widow — provision 
for  the  children — education  promised — and,  in  the  event 
of  children  being  orphans,  an  asylum  provided  ! 

In  London  an  asylum  for  the  orphan  children  of  Masons 
is  conducted  upon  the  most  liberal  principles.  That  insti- 
tution was  established  by  Mr.  Ruspini,  many  years  ago. 
In  the  great  hall  is  his  full-length  portrait  as  the  founder ; 
and  the  little  ones  look  upon  that  picture  with  a  love  that  is 
beautiful  to  behold.  His  countenance  beams  with  joy  while 
he  is  leading  little  children,  one  on  each  hand,  as  an  earthly 
protector.  How  singularly  this  picture  coincides  with  the 
frontispiece  of  this  work !  There  we  behold  our  beloved 
Washington,  leading  children  by  the  hand,  with  La  Fayette, 
Hancock,  and  De  Kalb,  in  the  back-ground,  giving  a  sanc- 
tion to  the  grand  example  of  the  Father  of  our  Country ! 

JOHN  PEBRY. 


ANCIENT   MYSTERIES. 


BY  COMP.  BRADLEY. 

DURING  the  reign  of  Solomon,  especially,  as  well  as  before 
and  afterwards,  a  very  intimate  connection  existed  between 
the  Jews  and  Egyptians.  Moses  was  born  in  Egypt  and 
educated  in  Pharaoh's  court,  until  he  was  forty  years  old, 
and  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,  and 
was  mighty  in  words  and  in  deeds.  Solomon  married 
Pharaoh's  daughter,  and  brought  her  into  the  city  of  David. 
This  affinity  with  the  king  of  Egypt  inclined  many  of  his 
nobility  to  visit  Jerusalem ;  and  commercial  arrangements 
were  made  and  carried  on  amicably  between  those  nations. 
From  this  reciprocal  connection,  we  are  inclined  to  infer 
that  Masonry  was  introduced  among  the  Egyptians.  Be 
this,  however,  as  it  may,  we  are  informed,  by  several  authen- 
tic historians,  that  masonry  did  flourish  in  Egypt  soon  after 
this  period.  By  this  mysterious  art  existing  in  our  prin- 
ciples, and  smiled  upon  by  the  Father  of  lights,  ancient 
Egypt  subsisted,  covered  with  glory,  during  a  period  of 
fifteen  or  sixteen  ages.  They  extended  our  system  of  bene- 
volence so  far,  that  he  who  refused  to  relieve  the  wretched, 
when  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  assist  him,  was  himself 
punished  with  death  :  they  regarded  justice  so  impartially, 
that  the  kings  obliged  the  judges  to  take  an  oath,  that  they 


14  ANCILNT     MYSTERIES. 

would  never  do  anything  against  their  own  consciences, 
though  they,  the  kings  themselves,  should  command  them. 
They  would  not  confer  upon  a  bad  prince  the  honors  of  a 
funeral.  They  held  a  session  upon  every  noted  Egyptian 
who  died,  for  the  direct  purpose  of  inquiring  how  he  had 
spent  his  life,  so  that  all  the  respect  due  to  his  memory 
might  be  paid.  They  entertained  such  just  ideas  of  the 
vanity  of  life,  as  to  consider  their  houses  as  inns,  in  which 
they  were  to  lodge  as  it  were  only  for  a  night.  They  were 
so  laborious,  that  even  their  amusements  were  adapted  to 
strengthen  the  body  and  improve  the  mind.  They  pro- 
hibited the  borrowing  of  money,  except  on  condition  of 
pledging  a  deposit  so  important  that  a  man  who  deferred 
the  redemption  of  it  was  looked  upon  with  horror. 

It  is  well-known  that  the  Egyptian  priests  have  uniformly 
been  considered  by  ancient  historians  as  possessing  many 
valuable  secrets,  and  as  being  the  greatest  proficients  in  the 
arts  and  sciences  of  their  times.  Whether  they  actually 
possessed  the  masonic  secrets  or  not,  we  cannot  absolutely 
determine ;  but  we  have  strong  circumstantial  reasons  to 
believe  they  did.  It  was  here  that  Pythagoras  was  initiated 
into  their  mysteries,  and  instructed  in  their  arts.  It  was 
here  that  sculpture  and  architecture,  and  all  the  sciences 
of  the  times,  were  so  greatly  perfected.  And  here,  it  has 
been  thought  by  some  of  the  most  curious  observers  of 
antiquity,  masonry  has  been  held  in  high  estimation. 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY.  15 


S3!  OMftXSr  01 


THE  antiquity  and  utility  of  FREEMASONRY,  being  gen- 
erally acknowledged  in  most  parts  of  the  habitable  globe,  it 
would  be  as  absurd  to  conceive  it  required  new  aids  for  its 
support,  as  for  him  who  has  the  use  of  sight  to  demand  .1 
proof  of  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun.  Nevertheless, 
in  compliance  with  the  requests  of  many  worthy  brethren,  I 
shall  lay  before  my  readers  some  strictures  on  the  origin, 
nature  and  design  of  that  institution  ;  and  with  prudent  re- 
serve confute  and  avert  the  many  shameful  and  idle  false- 
hoods which  are  industriously  propagated  by  its  enemies, 
the  better  to  inform  the  candid  and  well-meaning,  who 
might  not  readily  know  how  to  investigate  the  truth,  or 
want  leisure  and  opportunity  for  that  purpose. 

If  our  first  parent  and  his  offspring  had  continued  in  the 
terrestrial  paradise,  they  would  have  had  no  occasion  for 
mechanic  arts,  or  any  of  the  sciences  now  in  use  ;  Adam 
being  created  with  all  those  perfections  and  blessings,  which 
could  either  add  to  his  dignity,  or  be  conducive  to  his  real 
welfare  :  in  that  happy  period  he  had  no  propensity  to  evil, 
no  perverseness  in  his  heart,  no  darkness  or  obscurity  in 
his  understanding  ;  for  had  he  labored  under  these  maladies, 
he  would  not  have  been  a  perfect  man,  nor  would  there  be 


16  ORIGIN      OF     FREEMASONRY. 

any  difference  betwixt  man  in  a  state  of  innocence,  and  in  a 
state  of  degeneracy  and  corruption.  It  was,  therefore,  in 
consequence  of  his  wilful  transgression  that  any  evils  came 
upon  him.  And  having  lost  his  innocence,  he  in  that 
dreadful  moment  forfeited  likewise  his  supernatural  lights 
and  infused  knowledge,  whereby  every  science  (as  far  as 
human  nature  is  capable  of)  was  rendered  familiar  to  him 
without  the  tedious  labor  of  ratiocination,  requisite  to  men 
even  of  the  greatest  abilities,  whose  ideas  after  all  remain 
weak  and  imperfect. 

From  this  remarkable  and  fatal  era,  we  date  the  neces- 
sity and  origin  of  the  sciences.  First  arose  divinity,  where- 
by was  pointed  out  to  fallen  man  the  ways  and  will  of  God, 
the  omnipotence  and  mercy  of  an  offended  Creator:  the 
law,*  as  directing  us  to  distribute  justice  to  our  neighbor, 
and  relieve  those  who  are  oppressed  or  suffer  wrong.  Then 
royal  art  was  beyond  all  doubt  coeval  with  the  above 
sciences,  and  was  carefully  handed  down  by  Methuselah, 
who  died  but  a  few  days  before  the  general  deluge,  and  who 
had  lived  245  years  with  Adam,  by  whom  he  was  instructed 
in  all  the  mysteries  of  this  sublime  science,  which  he  faith- 
fully communicated  to  his  grandson  Noah,  who  transmitted 
it  to  posterity.  And  it  has  ever  been  preserved  with  a 
veneration  and  prudence  suitable  to  its  great  importance, 
being  always  confined  to  the  knowledge  of  the  worthy  only. 

•  No  sooner  had  Adam  transgressed  the  divine  command,  than  we  find  him 
cited  to  appear  before  the  Almighty  Judge.  When,  self-accused,  after  hearing  hit 
defence,  sentence  was  pronounced  upon  him  ;  a  method  of  proceeding  in  that 
science,  which  lu  been  adopted  in  criminal  cases,  by  the  more  enlightened  na- 
tion*, ft  5m  that  period  and  example,  down  to  the  present  day. 


ORIGIN      OF     FREEMASONRY.  17 

This  is  confirmed  by  many  instances,  which  men  of  reading 
and  speculation,  especially  such  as  are  of  this  society,  cannot 
suffer  to  escape  them. 

At  first  mankind  adhered  to  the  lessons  of  nature  ;  she 
used  necessity  for  the  means,  urged  them  to  invention,  and 
assisted  them  in  the  operation.  Our  primitive  fathers,  see- 
ing the  natural  face  of  the  earth  was  not  sufficient  for  the 
sustenance  of  the  animal  creation,  had  recourse  to  their 
faithful  tutoress,  who  taught  them  how  to  give  it  an  arti- 
ficial face,  by  creating  habitations  and  cultivating  the 
ground  ;  and  these  operations,  among  other  valuable  effects, 
led  them  to  search  into  and  contemplate  upon  the  nature 
and  properties  of  lines,  figures,  superfices  and  solids  ;  and 
by  degrees,  to  form  the  sciences  of  geometry  and  architec- 
ture, which  have  been  of  the  greatest  utility  to  the  human 
species.  Hence  we  were  first  taught  the  means  whereby 
we  might  attain  practice,  and  by  practice  introduce  specu- 
lation. 

From  the  flood  to  the  days  of  King  Solomon,  the  liberal 
arts  and  sciences  gradually  spread  themselves  over  different 
parts  of  the  globe  ;  every  nation  having  had  some  share  in 
their  propagation  ;  but  according  to  their  different  manners, 
some  have  cultivated  them  with  more  accuracy,  perseverance 
and  success  than  others ;  and  though  the  secrets  of  the 
royal  art  have  not  been  indiscriminately  revealed,  they  have 
nevertheless  been  communicated  in  every  age  to  such  as  were 
worthy  to  receive  them. 

But  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  undraw  the  curtain  and 
publicly  descant  on  this  head :  it  is  sacred  and  ever  will 


18  ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY. 

remain  so ;  those  who  are  honored  with  the  trust,  will  not 
reveal  it  except  to  the  truly  qualified  brother,  and  they  who 
are  ignorant  of  it  cannot  betray  it. 

I  shall,  however,  observe,  that  this  art  was  called  royal, 
not  only  because  it  was  originally  practised  by  kings*  and 
princes,  who  were  the  first  professors  of  it,  but  likewise  on 
account  of  the  superiority  which  so  sublime  a  science  gave 
its  disciples  "over  the  rest  of  mankind. 

Tliis  supreme  and  divine  knowledge  being  derived  from 
the  Almighty  Creator  to  Adam,  its  principles  ever  since 
have  been,  and  still  are,  most  sacredly  preserved  and 
inviolably  concealed.  For  as  all  things  in  process  of  time 
are  liable  to  decay  and  corruption,  the  ancient  professors, 
wisely  foreseeing  the  great  abuses  which  their  exalted  mys- 
teries might  sustain,  if  generally  made  known,  determined 
to  confine  the  knowledge  of  them  only  to  select  brethren, 
men  whom  they  had  found  by  long  experience  to  be  well 
versed  in  the  general  pinciples  of  the  society,  and  who  were 
eminent  for  their  piety,  learning  and  abilities. 

From  the  earliest  ages  of  antiquity,  the  royal  art  was 
ever  taught  with  the  greatest  circumspection,  not  in  schools 
or  academies,  to  a  promiscuous  audience,  but  was  confined 
to  certain  families ;  the  rulers  if  which  instructed  their 


•  The  celebrated  Selden  tells  us,  that  civil  society,  beginning  first  in  particular 
families,  under  economic  rale,  representing  what  is  now  a  commonwealth,  had  in 
iti  state,  the  husband,  father,  and  master,  as  King  (Selden's  works,  torn.  3,  col.  927). 
And  in  Abraham's  treaty  with  the  sons  of  Heth,  for  a  burying  place  for  Sarah,  they 
style  him  a  mighty  Prince ;  as  indeed  he  was  (Gen.  xxiii.  6).  In  a  word,  not 
only  Adam,  but  all  the  succeeding  patriarchs,  as  well  before  as  after  the  flood,  had 
by  th«  laws  of  nature,  kingly  power  over  their  respective  families. 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY.  19 

children  or  disciples,  and  by  this  means  conveyed  their 
mysterious  knowledge  to  posterity. 

After  the  flood,  the  professors  of  this  art  (according  to 
ancient  traditions)  were  first  distinguished  by  the  name  of 
Noachidae  (or  sons  of  Noah),  afterwards  by  that  of  sages 
or  wise  men  (men  instructed  as  Moses  in  all  the  wisdom  of 
the  Egyptians),  Chaldeans,  philosophers,  masters  in  Israel, 
&c.,  and  were  ever  venerated  as  sacred  persons.  They 
consisted  of  persons  of  the  brightest  parts  and  genius,  who 
exerted  their  utmost  abilities  in  discovering  and  investi- 
gating the  various  mysteries  of  nature,  from  whence  to  draw 
improvements  and  inventions  of  the  most  useful  conse- 
quences. Men  whose  talents  were  not  only  employed  in 
speculation,  or  in  private  acts  of  beneficence,  but  who  were 
also  public  blessings  to  the  age  and  country  in  which  they 
lived,  possessed  with  moderate  desires,  who  knew  to  con- 
quor  their  passions ;  practisers  and  teachers  of  the  purest 
morality,  and  ever  exerting  themselves  to  promote  the  har- 
mony and  felicity  of  society.  They  were,  therefore,  consult- 
ed from  all  parts,  and  venerated  with  that  sincere  homage 
which  is  never  paid  but  to  real  merit,  and  the  greatest  and 
wisest  potentates  on  earth  esteemed  it  an  addition  to  their 
imperial  dignities  to  be  enrolled  among  such  bright  orna- 
ments of  human  nature. 

A  principal  excellence  which  rendered  them  famous 
among  men  was  taciturnity,  which,  in  a  peculiar  manner, 
they  practised  and  inculcated  as  necessary  for  concealing 
from  the  unworthy  what  few  were  qualified  to  learn,  and 
still  fewer  to  teach. 


JO  ORIGIN      OF     FREEMASONRY. 

In  the  first  ages  of  the  world  science  was  in  a  low  state  ; 
because  the  uncultivated  manners  of  our  forefathers  ren- 
dered them  in.  general  incapable  of  that  knowledge  which 
their  posterity  have  so  amply  enjoyed :  the  professors  of  the 
royal  art,  therefore,  found  it  absolutely  requisite,  to  exclude 
the  more  unworthy  and  barbarous  part  of  mankind  from 
their  assemblies,  and  to  conceal  their  mysteries  under  such 
hieroglyphics,  symbols,  allegory  and  figures,  as  they  alone 
could  explain  (even  at  this  day  it  is  indispensible  in  us,  to 
prevent  future  bad  consequences,  by  concealing  from  vulgar 
eyes  the  means  used  by  them  to  unfold  such  mysteries), 
wherefore  the  greatest  caution  was  ever  observed  at  their 
meetings  that  no  unqualified  person  might  enter  amongst 
them;  and  every  method  was  employed  to  tyle  them 
securely,  and  conceal  the  real  intent  and  design  of  their 
convocations. 

In  order  to  render  their  proceedings  more  edifying  and 
extensively  useful,  charges  were  delivered  at  certain  times, 
as  well  for  regulating  the  conduct  of  the  fraternity,  as  pre- 
serving that  mark  of  distinction  which  their  superior  merit 
justly  entitled  them  to. 

Several  of  those  ancient  orations  are  still  extant,  by  which 
it  appears  that,  among  others,  one  of  their  principles  was  to 
inculcate  by  precept,  and  enforce  by  example,  a  strict  ob- 
servance of  the  moral  law,  as  the  chief  means  of  supporting 
government  and  authority.  And  it  is  evident  that  they 
thereby  effected  their  purpose,  and  secured  to  themselves  the 
favor,  respect,  and  esteem  of  the  world  in  general ;  and, 
notwithstanding  the  indolence  and  ignorance  of  some  ages, 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY.  21 

the  various  countries,  languages,  sects,  and  parties,  through 
whick  Masonry  has  passed,  always  subjected  to  the  neces- 
sity of  oral  tradition,  and  under  the  numerous  disadvantages 
with  which  the  masters  of  the  royal  art  had  to  struggle  in 
the  course  of  many  centuries,  still  does  it  retain,  in  a  great 
degree,  its  original  perfection; — a  circumstance  that  not 
only  bears  honorable  testimony  of  intrinsic  worth,  but  is 
highly  to  the  praise  of  those  to  whom  this  important  trust 
has  been  from  time  to  time  committed. 

After  this  concise  and  general  account  of  the  ancient  pro- 
fessors of  the  royal  art,  and  the  sublime  truths  which  they 
were  possessed  of,  and  were  by  them  transmitted  down  to 
posterity  in  the  manner  before  described,  we  will  proceed 
to  the  building  of  that  glorious  edifice,  at  which  period  this 
society  became  a  regular  and  uniform  institution,  under  the 
denomination  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons,  whose  customs 
and  proceedings  I  shall  describe  as  far  as  may  be  necessary 
and  prudent. 

Though  the  almighty  and  eternal  Jehovah  has  no  occasion 
for  a  temple  or  house  to  dwell  in,  for  the  heaven  of  heavens 
is  not  capable  of  containing  his  immensity,  yet  it  was  his 
divine  will  that  a  tabernacle  should  be  erected  for  him  in 
the  wilderness  by  Moses,  and  afterwards  a  temple  by 
Solomon,  at  Jerusalem,  as  his  sanctuary;  both  of  which 
were  to  be  constructed,  not  according  to  human  invention, 
but  after  a,  pattern  which  the  Lord  himself  had  given. 
The  whole  model  of  the  tabernacle  was  shown  to  Moses 
on  Mount  Sinai  (Exod.  xxv.  9).  and  the  pattern  of  the 
temple  was  likewise  given  to  David  by  the  hand  of  the 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY. 

Lord,  and  by  him  delivered  to  Solomon  his  son  (1  Chron. 
xxviii.  11). 

The  tabernacle  might  be  considered  as  the  palace  of  the 
Most  High,  the  dwelling  of  the  God  of  Israel ;  wherein  the 
Israelites,  during  their  journeyings  in  the  wilderness,  per- 
formed the  chief  of  their  religious  exercises,  offered  their 
sacrifices,  and  worshipped  God.*  It  was  thirty  cubits  in 
length,  ten  in  breadth,  and  ten  in  height ;  it  was  divided 
'into  two  partitions,  the  first  was  called  the  holy  place, 
which  was  twenty  cubits  long,  and  ten  wide:  here  were 
placed  the  table  of  show-bread,  the  golden  candlestick,  and 
the  golden  altar  of  incense.  The  second  was  called  the 
most  holy  place,  whose  length  was  ten  cubits,  and  breadth 
ten  cubits,  wherein,  before  the  building  of  the  temple,  the 
ark  of  the  covenant  was  kept,  which  was  a  symbol  of  God's 
gracious  presence  with  the  Jewish  church.  The  most  holy 
place  was  divided  from  the  holy  place  by  a  curtain  or  veil 
of  very  rich  cloth,  which  hung  upon  four  pillars  of  Shittim 
wood,  that  were  covered  with  plates  of  gold  (Exod.  xxvi.  31. 
Heb.  ix.  23). 

The  temple  erected  by  Solomon  (which  was  built  after  the 
model  of  the  tabernacle)  at  Jerusalem,  had  its  foundation 
laid  in  the  year  of  the  world  2992,  before  Christ  1008,  be- 
fore the  vulgar  era  1012 ;  and  it  was  finished  A.  L.  3000, 
and  dedicated  3001,  before  Christ  999,  before  the  vulgar 
era  1003.  The  glory  of  this  temple  did  not  consist  in  the 
magnitude  of  its  dimensions ;  for  though  it  was  twice  as 
lorg  and  capacious  every  way  as  the  tabernacle,  yet,  alone, 

*  The  tabernacle  was  erected  about  A.  L.  3513. 


ORIGIN      OF      FREEMASONRY.  28 

it  was  but  a  small  pile  of  building.  The  main  grandeur 
and  excellency  were  in  its  ornaments ;  the  workmanship 
being  everywhere  exceeding  curious,  and  the  overlayings 
prodigious :  in  its  materials,  being  built  of  new,  large 
stones,  hewn  out  in  the  most  curious  and  ingenious  manner ; 
in  its  out-buildings,  which  were  large,  beautiful,  and  sump- 
tuous;— but  still  more  admirable  in  this  majestic  edifice 
were  those  extraordinary  marks  of  divine  favor  with  which 
it  was  honored,  viz. :  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  in  which  were 
put  the  tables  of  the  law  and  the  mercy-seat,  which  was 
upon  it ;  from  whence  the  divine  oracles  were  given  out, 
with  an  audible  voice,  as  often  as  God  was  consulted  in 
behalf  of  his  people ;  the  Schechinah,  or  the  divine  presence, 
manifested  by  a  visible  cloud  resting  over  the  mercy-seat ; 
the  urim  and  thummumy  by  which  the  high-priest  consulted 
God  in  difficult  and  momentous  cases,  relating  to  the  public 
interest  of  the  nation ;  the  holy  fire  which  came  down  from 
heaven,  upon  the  altar,  at  the  consecration, — these,  indeed, 
were  excellencies  and  beauties  derived  from  a  divine  source, 
distinguishing  and  exalting  this  sacred  structure  above  all 
others  (1  Kings  xviii.  38).  David,  filled  with  the  hopes  of 
building  this  temple,  declared  his  intentions  to  Nathan  the 
prophet  (2  Sam.  vii.  1,  2,  3) ;  but  this  was  not  permitted 
him,  because  his  reign  had  been  attended  with  wars,  blood- 
shed and  slaughter,  and  he  still  had  to  contend  with  many 
powerful  enemies ;  but,  though  forbid  to  execute  this  divine 
and  glorious  work,  he  made  considerable  preparations  for 
that  purpose  ;  which  having  done,  and  drawing  towards  his 
latter  end,  he  assembled  all  the  princes  and  chief  persons 


24  ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY. 

of  his  kingdom,  and  ordered  and  encouraged  Solomon  pub- 
licly, and  in  their  presence,  to  pursue  such  his  intention 
(1  Chron.  xxviii.  1-10),  and  delivered  him  the  pattern,  or 
scheme,  of  all  the  houses,  &c.  (ver.  11, 12),  the  courses  of 
the  priests  and  Levites  (ver.  11-31),  and  likewise  the 
pattern  of  the  cherubims  (ver.  18),  earnestly  exhorting  his 
servants,  in  regard  to  the  tender  age  of  his  son  Solomon, 
who  was  yet  but  very  young,  to  yield  him  their  councils  and 
assistance  in  erecting  a  palace,  not  designed  for  man,  but 
for  the  Lord  God.  David  himself  gave  towards  the  build- 
ing of  the  temple  out  of  his  own  treasures,  besides  a  vast 
variety  of  precious  stones,  three  thousand  talents  of  gold  of 
Opliir,  and  seven  thousand  talents  of  silver  (1  Chron. 
xxix.  25). 

The  princes  of  his  kingdom  followed  the  glorious  exam- 
ple of  their  king,  and  gave  five  thousand  talents  and  ten 
thousand  drachms  of  gold,  ten  thousand  talents  of  silver, 
eighteen  thousand  talents  of  brass,  and  one  hundred  thou- 
sand talents  of  iron,  as  also  a  grf  it  many  of  the  most  pre- 
cious stones  (1  Chron.  xxix.  6,  7,  8). 

When  David  the  long  was  dead,*  and  Solomon  was 
established  on  his  throne,  he  resolved  to  carry  into  execu- 
tion his  father's  design,  and  to  erect  a  temple  to  his  great 
Creator. 

For  which  purpose  he  applied  to  Hiram,  King  of  Tyre, 
for  assistance ;  and  having  readily  obtained  a  promise  of 
what  he  desired,  and  procured  from  thence,  and  other  parts, 
men  and  materials  sufficient  for  his  intentions,  he  began  that 


ORIGIN      OF      F  R  K  E  :,I  A  S  O  N  A  Y  .  25 

great  and  majestic  fabric ;  and  as  method  and  order  are 
known  and  confessed  to  be  essentials  requisite  in  conducting 
all  great  designs  and  undertakings,  he  proceeded  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner  :  he  numbered  and  classed  his  men  accord- 
ing to  their  skill  and  abilities,  viz  : — 

1.  Harodim,  princes,  rulers  or  provosts,  in  number  .     .     .  300 

2.  Menatzchim,  overseers  and  comforters  of  the  people  in 

working,  that  were  expert  Mastrr-Masons  ....        3,300 

3.  Ghiblim,  stone-squarers,  polishers,  and  sculptors;  and 

Ishchotzeb,  men  of  hewing ;  Benai,  setters,  layers  or 
builders,  being  able  and  ingenious  fellow-crafts    .     .     80,000 

4.  The  levy  out  of  Israel,  appointed  to  work  in  Lebanon 

one  month  in  three,  10,000  each  month,  under  the 
direction  of  noble  Adoniram,  who  was  the  junior 

grand  warden 30,000 

Whole  number  employed,  exclusive  of  the  two  grand  war- 
dens, and  of  the  men  of  burthen,  who  were  the 
remains  of  the  old  Canaanites,  who  being  bondmen, 
are  not  numbered  among  Masons,  was 113,600 

Solomon  likewise  partitioned  the  fellow-crafts  into  certain 
lodges,  appointing  to  each  one  to  preside  as  a  master,  assist- 
ed by  two  others  as  guardians,  that  they  might  receive 
commands  in  a  regular  manner,  take  care  of  the  tools  and 
jewels,  and  be  duly  paid,  fed,  clothed,  &c. 

These  necessary  regulations  being  previously  settled,  to 
preserve  that  order  and  harmony  which  would  be  absolutely 
requisite  among  so  great  a  number  of  men,  in  executing  so 
large  a  work,  he  also  took  into  consideration  the  future 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY 


agreement  and  prosperity  of  the  craft,  and  deliberated  on 
the  best  means  to  secure  them  by  a  lasting  cement. 

Now,  brotherly  love  and  immutable  fidelity  presented 
themselves  to  his  mind,  as  the  most  proper  basis  for  an  in- 
stitution, whose  aim  and  end  should  be  to  establish  per- 
manent unity  among  its  members,  and  to  render  them  a 
society  who,  while  they  enjoyed  the  most  perfect  felicity, 
would  be  of  considerable  utility  to  mankind.  And  being 
desirous  to  transmit  it  under  the  ancient  restrictions  as 
a  blessing  to  future  ages,  Solomon  decreed,  that  when- 
ever they  should  assemble  in  their  lodges  to  discourse 
upon,  and  improve  themselves  in  the  arts  and  sciences,  and 
whatever  else  should  be  deemed  proper  topics  to  increase 
their  knowledge,  they  should  likewise  instruct  each  other  in 
secrecy  and  prudence,  morality  and  good-fellowship ;  and 
for  these  purposes  he  established  certain  peculiar  rules  and 
customs  to  be  invariably  observed  in  their  conversations, 
that  their  minds  might  be  enriched  by  a  perfect  acquaint- 
ance with,  and  practice  of,  every  moral,  social,  and  religious 
duty,  lest  while  they  were  so  highly  honored  by  being  em- 
ployed in  raising  a  temple  to  the  great  Jehovah,  they  should 
neglect  to  secure  to  themselves  a  happy  admittance  into 
the  celestial  lodge,  of  which  the  temple  was  only  to  be  a 
type. 

Thus  did  our  wise  Grand  Master  contrive  a  plan,  by 
mechanical  and  practical  allusions,  to  instruct  the  crafts- 
men in  principles  of  the  most  sublime  speculative  philoso- 
phy, tending  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  to  secure  to  them 
temporal  blessings  here,  and  eternal  life  hereafter ;  as  well 


ORIGIN      OF     FREEMASONRY.  27 

as  to  unite  the  speculative  and  operative  Masons  thereby 
forming  a  two-fold  advantage  from  the  principles  of  ge- 
ometry and  architecture,  on  the  one  part,  and  the  precepts 
of  wisdom  and  ethics  on  the  other.  The  next  circumstance 
which  demanded  Solomon's  attention  was  the  readiest  and 
most  effectual  method  of  paying  the  wages  of  so  vast  a  body 
of  men,  according  to  their  respective  degrees,  without  error 
or  confusion,  that  nothing  might  be  found  among  the  Masons 
of  Sion  save  harmony  and  peace.*  This  was  settled  in  a 
manner  well  known  to  all  regularly-made  Masons,  and 
therefore  is  unnecessary,  as  also  improper,  to  be  mentioned 
here. 

These  arrangements  being  adjusted,  the  noble  structure 
was  began,!  and  conducted  with  such  grandeur,  order,  and 
concord,  as  afforded  Solomon  the  most  exalted  satisfaction, 
and  filled  him  with  the  strongest  assurance  that  the  royal 
art  would  be  further  encouraged  in  future  ages,  and  amongst 
various  nations,  from  the  excellencies  of  this  temple,  and 
the  fame  and  skill  of  the  Israelites,  in  the  beauty  and 
symmetry  of  architecture  therein  displayed. 

He  was  likewise  sensible  that,  when  this  building  should 
be  completed,  the  craftsmen  would  disperse  themselves  over 
the  whole  earth ;  and  being  desirous  to  perpetuate,  in  the 
most  effectual  manner,  the  harmony  and  good-fellowship 

»  1  Kings  vi.  7. 

*  This  noble  structure  was  erected  on  Mount  Moriah,  in  the  month  Zif,  which 
answeis  to  our  April,  being  the  second  month  of  the  second  year  (A.  L.  299-') ,  and 
was  carried  on  with  such  prodigious  expedition,  that  it  was  completely  finished  in 
little  more  than  seven  years,  in  the  month  Bui,  which  answers  to  our  October, 
A.  L.  2999,  and  \rM  dedicated  the  year  following. 


28  ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY. 

already  established  among  them,  and  to  secure  to  them- 
selves,  their  future  pupils,  and  their  successors,  the  honor 
and  respect  due  to  men  whose  abilities  were  so  great,  and 
would  be  so  justly  renowned — in  conjunction  with  Hiram, 
King  of  Tyre,  and  Hiram  Abiflf,  the  deputy  Grand  Master, 
concerted  a  proper  plan  to  accomplish  his  intentions ;  in 
which  it  was  determined  that,  in  conformity  to  the  practice 
of  the  original  professors  of  the  royal  art,  general  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  should  be  established  for  a  proof  of  their 
having  been  fellow-laborers  in  this  glorious  work,  to  descend 
to  their  successors  in  all  future  ages,  who  should  be  in  a 
peculiar  manner  qualified  to  cultivate  the  sublime  principles 
of  this  noble  establishment ;  and  such  were  adopted  and 
received  accordingly.  With  respect  to  the  method  which 
would  be  hereafter  necessary  for  propagating  the  principles 
of  the  society,  Solomon  pursued  the  uniform  and  ancient 
custom,  in  regard  to  degrees  of  probation  and  injunctions  to 
secrecy,  which  he  himself  had  been  obliged  to  comply  with 
before  he  gained  a  perfection  in  the  royal  art,  or  even 
arrived  at  the  summit  of  the  sciences ;  therefore,  though 
there  were  no  apprentices  employed  in  the  building  of  the 
temple,  yet  as  the  craftsmen  were  all  intended  to  be  pro- 
moted  to  the  degree  of  Masters  after  its  dedication,  and  as 
these  would  secure  a  succession,  by  receiving  apprentices 
who  might  themselves,  in  due  time,  also  become  Master- 
Masons,  it  was  determined  that  the  gradations  in  the 
science  should  consist  of  three  distinct  degrees,  to  each  of 
which  should  be  adapted  a  particular  distinguishing  test, 
which  test,  together  with  the  explication,  was  accordingly 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY. 


settled  and  communicated  to  the  fraternity,  previous  to  their 
dispersion,  under  a  necessary  and  solemn  injunction  to 
secrecy ;  and  they  have  been  most  cautiously  preserved, 
and  transmitted  do\m  to  posterity  by  faithful  brethren,  ever 
since  their  emigration.  Thus  the  centre  of  union  among 
Freemasons  was  firmly  fixed — their  cabala  regulated  and 
established,  and  their  principles  directed  to  the  excellent 
purposes  of  their  original  intention. 

The  harmony  and  connection  of  the  society  of  Free- 
masons, and  the  excellent  precepts  and  principles  thereof, 
have  produced  the  utmost  good  consequence,  not  only  to  the 
particular  members  of  it,  but  frequently  to  the  nations 
where  it  has  been  cultivated  and  practised. 

For,  united  by  the  endearing  name  of  brother,  they 
^live  in  an  affection  and  friendship  rarely  to  be  met  with 
even  among  those  whom  the  ties  of  consanguinity  ought  to 
bind  in  the  firmest  manner.  That  intimate  union  which 
does  so  much  honor  to  humanity  in  general,  in  the  particu- 
lar intercourse  which  prevails  among  Freemasons,  diffuses 
pleasure  that  no  other  institution  can  boast.  For  the 
name  which  they  mutually  use  one  towards  another  is  not 
a  vain  compliment,  or  ^-n  idle  parade  ;  no,  they  enjoy,  in 
common,  all  the  felicities  of  a  true  brotherhood.  Here, 
merit  and  ability  secure  to  their  possessors  an  honorable 
regard,  and  a  respectful  distinction,  which  every  one  re- 
ceives with  an  unaffected  complacency  and  a  perfect 
humility — constantly  exerting  himself  for  the  general  good, 
without  vanity,  and  without  fear.  For  they  who  are  not 
adorned  with  the  same  advantages,  are  neither  mortified 


SO  ORIGIN      OF     FREEMASONRY. 

nor  jealous.  No  one  contends  for  superiority ;  here  emula- 
tion is  onlv  with  a  view  to  please ;  the  man  of  shining 
abilities,  and  those  unblessed  with  such  ornaments,  are  hero 
equally  admitted ;  all  may  here  perform  their  parts  ;  and 
what  may  seem  surprising,  amongst  such  a  variety  of  char- 
:u  t< TS,  haughtiness  or  servility  never  appear.  The  greatest 
admit  of  a  social  familiarity ;  the  inferior  is  elevate'd  and 
instructed,  constantly  maintaining  by  these  means  a  benefi- 
cent equality. 

With  respect  to  the  conversation  which  they  hold  during 
their  assemblies  it  is  conducted  with  the  most  perfect 
decencjr :  here  it  is  a  universal  maxim  never  to  speak  of 
the  absent  but  with  respect ;  ill-natured  satire  is  excluded  ; 
all  raillery  is  forbidden ;  they  will  not  even  suffer  the  least 
irony,  or  the  poignant  strokes  of  wit,  because  they  generally 
have  a  malignant  tendency;  they  tolerate  nothing  which 
carries  with  it  even  the  appearance  of  >  ce. 

Their  pleasures  are  never  embittered  by  ungrateful  reflec- 
tions, but  produce  a  serene  and  lasting  composure  of  mind. 
They  flow  not  like  a  torrent  which  descends  with  noise  and 
impetuosity,  but  like  a  peaceful  stream  within  its  own  chan- 
nel, strong  without  violence,  and  gintle  without  dulness. 

This  exact  regularity,  very  far  from  occasioning  a  melan 
choly  seriousness,  diffuses,  on  the  contrary,  over  the  heart, 
and  over  the  understanding,  the  most  pure  delights ;  the 
bright  effects  of  enjoyment  and  hilarity  shine  forth  in  the 
countenance  ;  and  although  the  appearances  are  sometimes 
a  little  more  sprightly  than  ordinary,  decency  never  runs 
any  risk — it  is  wisdom  in  good-humor.  For  if  a  brother 


ORIGIN     OF      FREEMASONRY.  31 

should  happen  to  forget  himself,  or  in  his  discourse  should 
have  the  weakness  to  use  such  expressions  as  are  distin- 
guished under  the  name  of  liberties,  a  formidable  sign 
would  immediately  call  him  to  his  duty;  a  brother  rnay 
mistake  as  a  man,  but  he  hath  opportunity  and  courage  to 
recover  himself,  because  he  is  a  Freemason.  Although  order 
and  decorum  are  always  scrupulously  observed  in  the  lodges 
of  Freemasons,  these  exclude  not,  in  anywise,  gaiety  and 
cheerful  enjoyment.  The  conversation  is  animated,  and 
the  kind  and  brotherly  cordiality  that  presides  there  affords 
the  most  pleasing  sensation. 

These  particulars  may  justly  recall  to  our  minds  the 
happy  time  of  the  divine  Astrea ;  when  there  was  neither 
superiority  nor  subordination,  because  men  were  as  yet  un- 
tainted by  vice,  and  uncorrupt. 

T.  W. 


Freemasony  was  introduced  into  America  one  hundred 
and  thirteen  years  after  the  first  settlement  of  Plymouth, 
in  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Most  Worshipful  Anthony  Montague,  Grand  Master  of 
Masons  in  England,  who  granted  a  patent  for  the  first 
American  Lodge ;  which  lodge  was  accordingly  held  in 
Boston,  the  metropolis  of  that  State,  on  the  30th  July, 
1733.  Since  that  time,  lodges  have  been  established  in 
every  State  and  territory  in  the  Union  ;  insomuch  that 
Masons  are  more  numerous  now  in  the  United  States,  in 
proportion  to  the  number  of  people,  than  they  are  in 


ORIGIN     OF     FREEMASONRY. 

Europe.  This  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  rapid  progress  of 
refinement  and  civilization  in  America ;  for  Freemasonry, 
which  lays  the  line,  stretches  the  compass,  applies  the 
square,  and  rears  the  well  ordered  column,  must  and  will 
always  keep  pace  and  run  parallel  with  the  culture  and 
civilization  of  mankind.  Nay,  we  may  pronounce  with  the 
strictest  truth,  that  where  Masonry  is  not,  refinement  and 
civilization  will  never  be  found. 

Since  Freemasony  has  exerted  her  heaven-derived  talents 
in  this  country,  what  a  train  of  arts  have  entered,  and 
joined  in  ample  suite,  to  give  their  patrons  Architecture, 
Sculpture,  and  Painting,  completion  and  glory.  Every  art, 
ivery  exertion  of  the  husbandman  and  mechanic,  have  been 
busied  and  complete. 

By  the  belp  of  operative  Masonry,  we  have  made  the 
wilderness  a  fruitful  field ;  have  supplied  our  tables  with 
the  conveniences  and  many  of  the  luxuries  of  life ;  have 
decorated  our  habitations  with  the  productions  of  the  man- 
ufacturer ;  and  have  built  us  cities  to  inhabit,  which  for 
convenience,  beauty  and  regularity,  may  vie  with  any  in  the 
world.  In  addition  to  these, -our  canals  are  a  stupendous 
work  of  operative  Masonry,  and  bid  fair  to  be  of  incalcu- 
lable advantage  to  millions  yet  unborn.  By  speculative 
Masonry  we  have  also  been  enabled  to  perform  those  civil, 
those  legislative  moral  plans,  by  which  our  most  sacred 
rights  and  invaluable  liberties  are  secured ;  by  which  we 
are  adorned,  established,  and  dignifie'd  as  an  independent 
nation,  and  the  greatest,  the  happiest,  the  most  powerful 
republic  that  ever  existed  in  the  world. 


A     SPRING     MELODY.  03 


BY     MISS     M.     J.     E.      KNOX. 

I  HAVE  heard  the  gentle  voice  of  Spring, 

She  hath  come  again  to  her  old-time  haunts, 
And  the  hill-sides  echo,  and  vallies  ring 
With  the  happy  notes  which  she  loves  to  sing, 
O'er  the  birth  of  the  first  young  plants  ! 

The  bare  trees  rustle  their  branches  gray, 

As  they  hear  her  pass  along ; 
The  black-bird  tuneth  his  joyous  lay, 
And  streamlets  leap  on  their  sea-ward  way 

With  a  burst  of  merry  song. 

Spring  hath  come  to  our  land  again  ! 

And  she  roameth  wild  and  free ; 
She  stealeth  away  through  the  shadowy  glen* 
Or  visiteth  kindly  the  homes  of  men,  * 

With  her  smiles  and  minstrelsy. 

Spring  hath  come  !  but  she  sheddeth  tears 

O'er  many  a  new-made  grave 
Of  those  she  smiled  on  in  other  years — 
Over  their  bosoms  the  young  grass  peera, 

And  her  earliest  flowers  shall  wavt 


WOMAN'*    LOVE. 


Spring  hath  come  !  and  her  smile  is  ours, 

And  her  promise  of  lovely  things, 
The  soft  sunshine,  and  the  fragrant  showers  — 
But  who  shall  gather  the  latest  flowers 
Which  the  beautiful  Sybil  brings  ? 

We  know  that  her  smile  is  upon  us  now, 

But  we  know  not  her  parting  lay  ; 
Ah  !  that  may  be  of  the  smiling  brow, 
And  the  blooming  cheek  in  dust  laid  low 

By  the  touch  of  swift  decay  ! 
May,  1851. 


W0XAV3    IOV3. 

BY     JOHN      T.      MAYO. 

THE  rude  conflicts  of  active  life,  which  it  is  the  lot  of 
man  to  encounter,  often  tend  to  check  the  sensibilities  of 
the  heart.  His  intercourse  with  his  species  is,  to  a  great 
extent,  in  the  arena  of  business,  and  the  cold  and  calcula- 
ting spirit  of  worldly  policy  is  apt  to  engross  his  mind  and 
paralyze  his  affections.  Natures  there  have  been  which, 
in  the  spring-time  of  youthful  buoyancy,  were  warm,  gene- 
rous, and  confiding,  and  susceptible  of  being  influenced  by 
the  slightest  touch  of  human  tenderness,  but  which,  under 
the  pressure  of  accumulating  cares,  become  frigid  and  re- 
served, and  seem  to  consider  the  enjoyments  arising  from 
the  exercise  of  the  gentler  emotions  of  the  heart  as  unworthy 
of  the  stern  dignity  of  the  man  of  business. 


WOMAN'S    LOVE.  86 

No  merchant  ever  maintained  a  higher  reputation  for 
keen  sagacity  and  inflexible  integrity  in  all  his  transactions 
than  did  Henry  Freeman.  The  world  for  him  appeared  to 
contain  but  one  central  point  of  attraction — that  in  which 
he  planned  and  conducted  the  operations  of  his  business. 
Every  advantage  that  wealth  could  bestow  was  realized  in 
his  family ;  but  there,  as  in  the  mercantile  circle,  he  was 
essentially  the  man  of  business.  It  was  not  that  his  home 
was  deficient  in  any  of  the  ingredients  necessary  to  the 
existence  of  domestic  happiness,  but  the  character  of  the 
husband  and  the  father  was  in  a  great  degree  lost  in  that  of 
the  merchant.  Yet  it  was  not  that  he  had  ceased  to  regard 
with  affection  the  amiable  being  whom  he  had  singled  out 
from  the  lists  of  loveliness  as  his  companion  on  the  pilgrim- 
age of  life,  or  to  take  an  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  chil- 
dren. In  his  case  was  exemplified  the  powerful  sway  which 
the  passion  for  worldly  gain  is  capable  of  exerting  upon  the 
mind,  concentrating  all  its  energies  to  the  one  solitary  point, 
and  rendering  it  comparatively  indifferent  to  every  other 
consideration.  The  favors  of  Fortune  are  not  to  be  coldly 
wooed  or  lightly  won,  and  not  unfrequently  are  they  pur- 
chased by  her  infatuated  votaries  at  the  sacrifice  of  every 
noble  principle  and  every  generous  sentiment. 

But  no  blighting  influence  had  passed  over  the  heart  of 
his  devoted  wife.  Her  affections  entwined  around  him  wit^i 
all  the  freshness  and  constancy  of  earlier  days,  and  her  sen- 
sitive mind  could  not  but  perceive  and  mourn  his  distant 
and  reserved  deportment  towards  her.  It  is  true  he  was 
never  positively  harsh  or  unkind,  for  naturally  a  more  gen- 


WOMAN'S     LOVE. 


erous  soul  never  inhabited  a  human  breast.  Her  utmost 
powers  of  pleasing  were  exerted  to  win  his  approving  smile, 
— but  to  him  a  smile  seemed  an  effufiinftte  indulgence  not 
to  be  too  often  or  injudiciously  repeated.  His  brow  con- 
stantly wore  the  shade  of  a  moody  though tfulm  >>,  uliich  she 
was  sometimes  inclined  to  attribute  to  the  reverses  of  busi- 
ness, but  when  with  ;ender  solicitude  she  pressed  the 
inquiry,  he  briefly  assured  her  that  her  apprehensions  were 
unfounded.  Often  would  she  seek  in  tears  relief  from  the 
intensity  of  her  feelings,  but  her  womanly  spirit  never 
suffered  him  to  witness  an  exhibition  which  he  would  be  sure 
to  characterise  as  unpardonable  weakness.  The  questions 
were  ever  revolving  in  her  mind.  Had  she  offended  in  word 
or  look  ?  Could  the  demon  of  jealousy  have  dared  to  whis- 
per in  his  ear  a  suspicion  of  her  constancy  ?  Was  it  pos- 
sible that  she  had  a  rival  in  his  affections?  The  latter 
thought  was  too  painful  to  entertain  for  a  moment,  and 
it  was  banished  from  her  mind  as  soon  as  it  suggested 
itself.  Her  generous  confidence  forbade  her  to  indulge  the 
shadow  of  a  suspicion  of  his  unfaith fulness. 

Had  Freeman  been  aware  of  the  unhappiness  which  his 
singular  demeanor  had  thus  occasioned,  it  would  have 
aroused  him  from  his  listless  apathy,  and  called  forth  his 
efforts  to  convince  his  amiable  companion  that  he  .had  not 
designed  in  the  least  to  disturb  her  tranquility.  He  had 
been,  however,  so  habitually  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections 
that  any  indication  of  uneasiness  on  her  part  had  been  by 
him  entirely  unnoticed.  The  truth  is,  that  although 
cnjgagec1  in  an  extensive  and  prosperous  business,  he  was 


WOMAN'S    LOVE.  8? 

not  a  happy  man.  He  was  the  victim  of  care  and  disquie- 
tude, rendered  still  more  distressing  from  the  distrust  and 
uncertainty  which  porvaded  the  mercantile  world.  He  lived 
in  constant  dread  of  some  unforeseen  blow,  which  should 
level  to  the  dust  the  fair  fabric  of  his  prosperity. 

And  the  blow,  long  dreaded,  came  at  last.  No  human 
prudence  or  vigilance  is  secure  against  the  disasters  of  life. 
The  very  precautions  we  take  to  avoid  danger  may  in  reality 
only  accelerate  it.  The  men  in  whom  we  place  the  most 
unbounded  confidence  may  either  be  themselves  prostrated, 
or  repay  the  trust  we  reposed  in  them  with  the  basest 
treachery.  In  a  moment  of  fancied  security  tho  results  of 
Jong  years  of  unremitted  toil  may  be  wrapped  in  flames,  or 
the  winds  of  heaven  may  turn  traitor  to  our  hopes,  and  the 
gallant  barque,  and  the  treasures  it  was  probably  bearing  to 
our  feet,  may  go  down  to  increase  the  hidden  wealth  of 
"  old  ocean's  caverned  deep."  How  justly  does  the  voice 
of  wisdom  admonish  us,  "  Boast  not  in  uncertain  riches  !" 

To  one  who  had  never  before  encountered  the  chilling 
blast  of  misfortune,  this  sudden  reverse  came  with  stunning 
force.  With  intense  anguish  and  bitter  despondency  he 
gazed  upon  the  wreck  of  his  earthly  expectations,  and 
beheld  the  gaunt  monster,  adversity,  advancing  to  embrace 
him  in  his  idAless  grasp.  His  wife  soon  read  the  fearful 
truth  in  thelmdness  of  his  eye,  the  haggard  expression  of 
his  care-worn  features,  and  the  deep  groans  which  broke 
the  stillness  of  the  midnight  hour.  But  did  she,  too,  quail 
and  sink  beneath  the  appaling  stroke  1  She  felt  its  weight, 
indeed,  deeply  and  keenly,  but  in  the  hour  of  affliction  she 


WOMAN'S    LOVE. 


was  firm  and  unsubdued.  The  crisis  was  one  which  served 
to  call  into  action  those  mighty  resources  which  exist  only 
in  the  pure  fountain  of  a  woman's  love. 

One  evening,  while  he  was  reclining  on  the  sofa  absorbed 
in  deep  and  melancholy  thought,  his  wife  quietly  seated 
herself  by  his  side,  and  gently  laying  her  hand  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  looking  earnestly  in  his  face  she  said  : 

"  Does  Henry  forget  the  beautiful  groves  of  Beechland  1" 

He  started  from  his  reverie,  and  a  faint  smile  lighted  up 
his  countenance  as  he  asked, 

"  Does  Eliza  remember  them  without  regret  V9 

"  Never,"  she  replied,  "  can  I  retrace  those  happy  scenes 
without  delight,  until  the  conviction  is  forced  upon  me  that 
I  possess  no  longer  a  place  in  your  affections.  It  was  there 
we  pledged  our  mutual  love  ;  and  surely  if  ever  earth  wit- 
nessed the  union  of  kindred  hearts,  it  was  at  that  moment. 
To  this  hour  my  soul  fondly  dwells  upon  the  declaration 
which  you  then  uttered,  that  the  lowliest  cottage,  if  shared 
with  me,  would  be  to  you  a  paradise.  Nor  can  I  forget 
how,  in  the  fullness  of  my  confiding  heart,  I  reciprocated 
the  sweet  assurance." 

"  Eliza,"  said  Freeman,  solemnly,  "  I  have  not  changed 
in  my  regard  for  you,  and  the  thoughts  of  contributing  to 
your  happiness  has  eyer  cheered  and  sustakped  me  in  my 
conflicts  with  the  world;  and  were  it  not  TDat  you  must 
suffer  with  me,  I  could  endure  with  greater  fortitude  the 
misfortunes  which  have  overtaken  me  ;  but  when  I  see  those 
tears"— 

"  They  are.  not  tears  of  sorrow,  Henry.     You  mistake 


wo  MAN'S    LOVE.  39 

me  if  you  think  I  am  unhappy — at  least  on  my  own  account. 
Our  sky  is  for  the  moment  overcast ;  but  let  us  not  despair. 
Brighter  days  will  come,  and  all  the  brighter  for  having 
been  clouded  with  affliction.  Let  us  put  our  trust  in  our 
heavenly  Father,  and  he  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  us." 

Until  this  occasion  Freeman  had  never  tested  the  dovoted- 
ness  of  woman's  love.  He  had  till  now  indulged  the  painful 
apprehension,  that  she  would  be  unable  to  sustain  the  pri- 
vations consequent  upon  their  reduced  circumstances.  He 
now  beheld  her  rising  superior  to  the  power  of  adversity, 
and  not  only  nobly  maintaining  her  own  calmness  and 
fortitude  in  the  hour  of  trial,  but  by  kindness  and  sympathy 
gently  relieving  his  own  mind  from  the  burden  of  despond- 
ency, and  animating  him  to  new  efforts  to  retrieve  his  fallen 
condition. 

It  is  not  in  the  gay  haunts  of  pleasure  and  dissipation,  in 
the  frivolous  ceremonials  and  sickening  parade  of  fashion- 
able life,  nor  amidst  the  profusion  of  prosperity  and  the 
refinements  of  luxurioua  indulgence,  that  we  are  to  seek  for 
those  traits  of  virtuous  excellence  which  distinguish  and 
adorn  woman's  character.  Under  such  circumstances  there 
is  nothing  to  call  forth  the  latent  but  ennobling  energies  of 

her  nature.     She  is  there  the  sensitive  creature  of  the  ima- 

I 

gination — a  wayward  and  capricious  being,  fluttering  in  the 
sunshine,  braiding  her  raven  tresses  with  the  fairest  flowers 
of  summer,  or  tossing  them  wildly  to  the  fresh  dalliance  of 
the  morning  breeze,  whilst  her  joyous  laugh  rings  out 
merrily  on  the  ear,  awakening  in  our  hearts  responsive  tones 
of  gladness,  and  in  the  ecstasy  of  the  moment  causing  us  to 


40  WOMAN'S    LO  VE. 

dream  that  no  envious  cloud  can  ever  obscure  the  brightness 
of  our  sky,  or  gloomy  care  dash  with  bitterness  the  spark- 
ling cup  of  our  earthly  existence.  If  we  would  see  woman 
in  the  greatness  of  her  attributes,  we  must  contemplate  her 
in  the  hour  of  tria!  and  affliction — we  must  behold  her 
bending  over  the  couch  of  sickness,  and  with  self-denying 
devotedness  tasking  all  the  ingenuity  of  her  affectionate 
heart  to  relieve  the  distress  of  the  beloved  sufferer,  and 
whispering  to  his  soul  the  consolations  of  hope,  and  the 
assurances  of  undying  love.  It  is  in  such  scenes  that  she 
stands  out  in  bold  relief,  an  angel  of  light  amidst  the  dark- 
ness of  the  surrounding  storm. 

In  the  mind  of  Freeman  the  affectionate  sympathy  of  his 
wife  tended  not  only  to  soothe  the  pains  of  disappointment, 
but  to  give  a  new  and  interesting  direction  to  the  current  of 
his  thoughts.  He  saw  that  there  were  springs  in  the  sacred 
enclosure  of  the  domestic  affections,  overlooked  in  the  ardor 
of  his  ambition,  but  capable  of  ministering  to  the  heart 
pleasures  more  pure,  and  peaceful,  and  enduring  tluui 
wealth,  with  all  its  boasted  pretensions,  can  ever  bestow. 
Inspired  by  these  views,  his  manly  spirit  threw  off  the  burden 
which  had  so  fearfully  depressed  him,  and  sprung  forth  with 
fresh  vigor  to  renew  the  struggle  with  his  destiny.  Com- 
mitting th'e  details  of  his  domestic  arrangements  entirely  to 
the  judicious  management  of  his  wife,  he  addressed  himself 
to  the  regulation  of  his  business  affairs ;  and  although  his 
losses  had  been  severe,  he  was  soon  eacouraged  to  find  that 
his  situation  was  not  quite  so  desperate  as  he  had  imagined. 
By  a  course  of  strict  prudence  and  economy  he  succeeded 


WOMAN'SLOVE,  41 

after  a  time  in  regaining  in  some  degree  the  prosperous 
position  which  he  had  formerly  enjoyed. 

During  the  period  of  his  embarrassment,  in  order  to 
retrench  his  expenses,  Freeman  removed  his  family  to  a 
romantic  situation,  a  short  distance  from  the  metropolis. 
In  this  peaceful  abode  his  mind  often  wandered  back  to  the 
scenes  of  distracting  care  through  which  he  had  passed, 
and  the  disastrous  termination  of  his  arduous  struggle  for 
riches.  He  had  learned,  by  painful  experience,  the  transi- 
tory nature  of  earthly  possessions,  and  his  thoughts,  sobered 
and  chastened  by  the  stern  lessons  of  adversity,  were  directed 
to  a  duty  more  congenial  with  the  dignity  and  destiny  of 
man — that  of  acquiring  an  interest  in  that  inheritance  which 
fadeth  not  away.  In  this  respect  the  reverses  of  temporal 
fortune  were  overruled  for  good ;  while  the  noble  and 
generous  devotion  of  his  wife,  in  the  hour  of  his  deepest 
despondency,  taught  him  a  most  cheering  and  interesting 
lesson  of  the  power  and  constapov  ^  WOMAN'S  LOVE. 


42  THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 


233 


IN  the  midst  of  justice  God  always  remembered  mercy. 
After  the  first  great  display  of  power  in  the  general  destruc- 
tion of  mankind,  this  gracious  Being  placed  his  bow  in  the 
clouds,  as  a  divine  token  that  mercy  should  now  prevail  ; 
and  that  he  would  no  more  destroy  the  earth  by  a  flood  of 
waters.  And  when  mankind  had  degenerated  to  the  lowest 
point  of  human  depravity,  he  sent  his  Son  to  make  atone- 
ment for  them,  that  lost  purity  might  be  restored,  faith 
and  hope  placed  on  a  firm  foundation,  and  his  fallen  crea- 
tures be  again  placed  within  the  sphere  of  his  favor  arid 
protection.  Thus  the  dark  clouds  of  divine  wrath  are 
dissipated,  the  heavens  are  opened  ;  and  we  enjoy  a  ray  of 
his  glory  in  the  celestial  covering  of  the  Lodge.  And  more 
than  this  ;  the  same  divine  Being  has  taught  us  how  to 
attain  the  summit  of  the  same,  by  means  which  are  emble- 
matically depicted  by  a  Ladder  consisting  of  three  prin- 
cipal Rounds  or  Staves,  which  point  to  the  three  theo- 
logical virtues,  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  Let  us  consider 
the  origin  and  application  of  this  symbol,  by  which  a  com- 
munication is  opened  between  the  creature  and  his  Creator, 
with  the  gracious  design  of  restoring  to  man  that  supreme 
happiness  which  was  forfeited  by  Adam's  transgression. 


OB  ©  IT  C  C  E 


THE     MASONIC     LADDER.  43 

The  application  of  this  emblem  is  said  to  be  derived 
from  the  vision  of  Jacob  ;  an  idea  of  which  the  artist  has 
presented  in  the  accompanying  engraving.  When  the  Patri- 
arch, to  avoid  the  wrath  of  his  brother  Esau,  fled  to  Pa- 
danaram,  benighted  and  asleep,  with  the  earth  for  his  bed, 
a  stone  for  his  pillow,  and  the  cloudy  canopy  of  heaven  for 
his  covering,  he  beheld  a  Ladder,  whose  foot  was  placed  on 
the  spot  where  he  lay,  and  its  summit  lost  in  the  subtile 
ether.  On  this  Ladder,  angels  continually  ascended  and 
descended  to  receive  communications  from  the  Most  High, 
who  visibly  appeared  above  the  uppermost  round  of  the 
Ladder,  and  to  disseminate  their  divine  commissions  over 
the  face  of  the  earth.  Here  God  grael^ly  condescended 
to  enter  into  a  specific  covenant  with  the  sleeping  Patri- 
arch, who  was  lienee  so  impressed  with  the  fivlin^s  of 
gratitude  and  devotion,  that  when  he  awoke  he  pronounced 
this  consecrated  spot  "  the  house  of  God,  and  the  gate  of 
heaven." 

The  history  of  an  event  of  this  importance,  connected 
with  a  very  significant  emblem,  which  was  probably  a 
square  pyramid,  with  steps  on  every  side,  might  with 
unequivocal  effect  be  introduced  by  Jacob  into  the  system 
of  Masonry  which  he  taught  to  His  children,  and  from  them 
be  transplanted  into  the  mysteries  of  Egypt,  whence  it 
might  spread  into  other  countries,  until  the  symbol  became 
common  to  the  mysteries  of  all.  I  rather  incline  to  the 
opinion,  however,  that  its  origin  may  be  ascribed  to  a  much 
earlier  period — even  to  the  first  institution  of  Masonry  in 
Paradise,  when  the  communication  between  God  and  man 


44  THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 

was  immediately  and  unrestrainedly  practised  by  the  com- 
mon parents  of  mankind.  The  ascent  to  the  summit  of 
the  paradisiacal  mount  of  God,  by  means  of  a  pyramid 
consisting  of  seven  steps,  was  an  old  notion  certainly  enter- 
tained before  the  vision  of  Jacob,  for  it  prevailed  amongst 
the  Mexican  Savages;*  and  the  original  settlers  on  the 
vast  continent  of  America  could  have  no  knowledge  of  this 
vision,  either  by  tradition  or  personal  experience.  The 
Jewish  Cahalists  entertained  a  belief  that  the  paradisiacal 
mount  was  the  place  of  residence  chosen  by  the  children  of 
Seth,  while  the  contaminated  descendants  of  Cain  resided 
in  the  plains  below;  and  its  altitude  was  said  to  be  so 
great,  that  from  its  summit  might  be  heard  the  angels  of 
heaven  singing  their  celestial  anthems  before  the  throne  of 
God! 

In  ancient  Masonry  the  Ladder  was  figuratively  said  to 
rest  on  the  Holy  Bible,  and  to  consist  of  three  principal 
staves,  although  the  general  number  was  indefinite,  pointing 
to  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity,  as  the  fundamental  virtues 
which  exalt  mankind  from  earth  to  heaven.  But  in  subse- 
quent ages  the  Essenes  increased  the  number  to  seven, 
and  subsequently  to  ten,  principal  steps,  which  were 
denominated  the  Sephiroth.  In  the  emblematical  repre- 

•  "  In  the  midst  of  a  thick  forest,"  says  M.  Humboldt,  "  called  Tajin,  near  the 
gulf  of  Mexico,  rises  the  pyramid  of  Papantla.  It  had  seven  stories  ;  was  built  of 
hewn  stone,  and  was  very  beautifully  and  regularly  shaped.  Three  staircases  led 
to  the  top.  The  covering  of  its  steps  was  decorated  with  hieroglyphical  sculpture 
and  small  niches,  which  were  arranged  with  great  symmetry.  The  number  of 
these  ivches  seems  to  allude  to  the  three  hundred  and  eighteen  simple  and  com- 
pound  signs  of  the  days  of  the  Compohualilhuitl,  or  civil  calendar  of  the  Toltecks." 
Researches  in  America,  vol.  i.  r  80- 


THE     MASONIC     LADDER.  46 

sentation  of  these  divine  splendors,  we  find  the  three  great 
hypostasis  of  the  godhead  surmounting  the  seven  steps  of 
the  Ladder,  and  by  regular  gradations  ascending  to  the 
celestial  abodes.  The  names  of  the  seven  Sephiroth  were, 
Strength,  Mercy,  Beauty,  Victory  or  Eternity,  Glory,  the 
Foundation,  and  the  Kingdom.  Initiation  was  considered 
absolutely  necessary  to  entitle  the  candidate  to  a  participa- 
tion in  those  divine  splendors,  which  communicated  with 
each  other  by  progressive  stages ;  until,  from  the  summit 
of  the  Ladder  the  three  hypostasis  of  the  divine  nature 
were  attained,  whose  consummation  was  a  crown  of  glory 
and  the  throne  of  God. 

Amongst  the  heathen  this  Ladder  always  consisted  of 
seven  steps  or  gradations ;  probably  as  a  memorial  of  the 
seven  magnificent  stories  of  the  tower  of  Babel ;  or  it  might 
have  been  derived  from  a  tradition  respecting  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Sabbath,  in  commemoration  of  the  great  day 
of  rest  which  followed  the  creation,  and  received  the 
peculiar  benediction  of  the  Most  High.  Tliis  division  of 
time  and  consecration  of  the  seventh  day  was  known  to 
the  sons  of  Noah,  as  we  may  gather  from  our  own  scrip- 
tures, for  it  was  practically  enforced  by  the  patriarch 
while  he  continued  in  the  Ark.  Hence  the  sacred  nature 
of  the  seventh  day  was  universally  acknowledged  by  all 
nations  of  their  posterity ;  and  subsequently  many  myste- 
rious properties  were  ascribed  to  the  number  itself.  The 
extreme  probability  that  the  number  seven  was  applied  to 
the  Theological  Ladder  with  this  reference  may  be  deduced 
from  the  fact,  that  each  gradation  was  appropriated  to  a 


THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 


day  in  the  week,  and  also  to  a  particular  planet  ;  and  it  is 
observable  that  the  seven  days,  and  the  seven  planets,  were 
made  to  correspond  in  almost  every  country  in  the  world. 
Our  own  names  of  both  may  be  referred  to  as  a  corrobora- 
tion  of  the  system.  Thus,  Sunday  is  so  called  from  the 
Sun  ;  Monday  from  the  Moon  ;  Tuesday  and  Wednesday 
from  Tuisco  and  Woden,  the  Gothic  Mercury  and  Mars  ; 
Thursday  from  Thor,  the  Jupiter  of  the  same  people; 
Friday  from  the  goddess  Friga,  who  amongst  the  Getoe 
corresponds  with  the  Grecian  Venus  ;  and  Saturday  from 
the  idol  Seater,  who  represented  Saturn  among  the  nor- 
thern nations  of  Europe. 

The  Ladder  with  seven  steps  was  used  in  the  Indian 
mysteries  to  designate  the  approach  of  the  soul  to  perfec- 
tion. The  steps  were  usually  denominated  gates.  The 
meaning  is  undoubtedly  the  same,  for  it  is  observable  that 
Jacob,  in  reference  to  the  lower  stave  of  his  Ladder, 
exclaimed,  "  this  is  the  house  of  God,  and  the  gate  of 
heaven."  Here  we  find  the  notion  of  ascending  to  heaven, 
by  means  of  the  practice  of  moral  virtue,  depicted  by  the 
Hebrew  patriarchs  and  by  a  remote  idolatrous  nation  under 
the  idea  of  a  Ladder  ;  which  we  may  hence  conclude  was 
a  masonic  symbol  much  earlier  than  the  time  of  Jacob. 
These  gates  were  said  to  be  composed  of  different  metals, 
of  gradually  increasing  purity  ;  each  being  dignified  with 
the  name  of  its  protecting  planet.  The  first  and  lowest 
was  composed  of  lead,  and  dedicated  to  Saturn  ;  the  second 
of  quicksilver,  sacred  to  Mercury;  the  third  of  copper, 
under  the  protection  of  Venus  ;  the  fourth  of  tin,  typical 


THE      MASONIC      LADDER.  %  47 

of  Jupiter  ;  the  fifth  of  iron,  sacred  to  Mars  ;  the  sixth  of 
silver,  dedicated  to  the  Moon  ;  and  the  uppermost  stave, 
which  constituted  the  summit  of  perfection,  and  opened  a 
way  to  the  residence  of  the  celestial  deities,  was  composed 
of  the  pure  and  imperishable  substance  of  gold,  and  WMS 
under  the  protection  of  their  most  high  god,  the  sun. 

In  these  mysteries,  during  the  ceremony  of  initiation, 
the  candidate  was  passed  successively  through  seven  dark 
and  winding  caverns,  which  progress  was  mystically  deno- 
minated the  ascent  of  the  Ladder.  Each  cavern  termi- 
nated in  a  narrow  stone  orifice,  which  formed  an  entrance 
into  its  successor.  Through  these  gates  of  purification  tlio 
mortified  aspirant  was  compelled  to  squeeze  his  body  with 
considerable  labor  ;  and  when  he  had  attained  the  summit, 
he  was  said  to  have  passed  through  the  transmigration  of 
the  spheres,  to  have  accomplished  the  ascent  of  the  soul, 
and  to  merit  the  favor  of  the  celestial  deities.  These  seven 
stages  of  initiation,  emblematical  of  the  seven  worlds,  are 
thus  explained  :  "  The  place  where  all  beings,  whether 
fixed  or  moveable,  exist,  is  called  earth,  which  is  the  First 
World.  That  in  which  beings  exist  a  second  time,  but 
without  sensation,  again  to  become  sensible  at  the  close 
of  the  period  appointed  for  ^.he  duration  of  the  present 
universe,  is  the  World  of  Re-existence.  The  abode  of  the 
good,  where  cold,  heat,  and  light  are  perpetually  produced, 
is  named  Heaven.  The  intermediate  region  between  the 
upper  and  lower  worlds,  is  denominated  the  Middle  World. 
The  heaven,  where  animals,  destroyed  in  a  general  confla- 
eration,  at  the  close  of  the  appointed  period  are  born,  is 


48  THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 

thence  called  the  World  of  Births.  That,  in  which  Sanaca, 
and  other  sons  of  Brahma,  justified  hy  austere  devotion, 
reside  exempt  from  all  dominion,  is  thence  named  the  Man- 
sion of  the  Blessed.  Truth,  the  Seventh  World,  and  the 
abode  of  Brahme,  is  placed  on  the  summit  above  other  worlds. 
It  is  attained  by  true  knowledge,  by  the  regular  discharge  of 
duties,  and  by  veracity ;  once  attained,  it  is  never  lost. 
Truth  is  indeed  the  Seventh  World,  therefore  called  the 
Sublime  Abode. 

In  the  Persian  mysteries,  the  candidate,  by  a  similar 
process,  was  passed  through  seven  spacious  caverns,  con- 
nected by  winding  passages,  each  opening  with  a  narrow 
portal,  and  each  the  scene  of  some  perilous  adventure  to 
try  his  courage  and  fortitude  before  he  was  admitted  into 
the  splendid  Saccllum,  which,  being  illuminated  with  a 
thousand  torches,  reflected  every  shade  of  color  from  rich 
gems  and  amulets,  with  which  the  walls  were  copiously 
bedecked.  The  dangerous  progress  was  denominated,  as- 
cending the  Ladder  of  perfection. 

From  this  doctrine  has  arisen  the  tale  of  Rustam,  who  was 
the  Persian  Hercules,  and  Dive  Sepid,  or  the  White  Giant. 

"  Cai-Caus,  the  successor  of  Cai-Cobab,  the  first  mon- 
arch of  the  Caianian  dynasty,  is  instigated  by  the  song  of  a 
minstrel  to  attempt  the  conquest  of  Mazenderaun,  which  is 
celebrated  as  a  perfect  earthly  Paradise." 

This  celestial  abode  refers  to  the  splendid  sacellum  of 
the  Persian  Epoptae,  which  was  an  emblematical  representa- 
tion of  heaven. 

"  It  lies  in  the  region  of  Aspruz,  at  the  foot  of  which, 


THE      MASONIC      LADDER.  49 

with  respect  to  Persia,  the  sun  sets ;  and  in  literal  geogra- 
phy it  is  determined  to  be  a  province  bordering  on  the 
Caspian  Sea.  Hence  it  is  part  of  that  high  tract  of  coun- 
try denominated  the  Tabaric  or  Gordyean  range,  within 
the  limits  of  which  the  groves  of  Eden  were  planted,  and 
the  Ark  rested  after  the  Deluge.  Cai-Caus  fails  in  his 
enterprise ;  for  the  sacred  country  is  guarded  by  the  White 
Giant,  who  smites  him  and  all  his  troops  with  blindness, 
and  makes  them  his  prisoners." 

This  is*  a  literal  account  of  the  first  stage  of  initiation, 
which,  in  the  mysteries,  always  commenced  with  darkness. 
In  those  of  Britain,  the  candidate  is  designated  as  a  blind 
man.  He  is  commanded  to  prepare  the  cauldron  of  Cerid- 
wen,  three  drops  of  whose  contents,  properly  concocted, 
were  said  to  possess  the  faculty  of  restoring  the  sight,  and 
infusing  a  knowledge  of  futurity.  Being  unsuccessful, 
Ceridwen  (the  giantess)  strikes  the  unfortunate  aspirant  a 
violent  blow  over  his  head  with  an  oar,  and  causes  one  of 
his  eyeballs  to  fall  from  the  socket.  And  the  captivity  of 
Cai-Caus  and  his  Persians  in  the  cavern,  under  the  rigid 
guardianship  of  the  Dive,  is  but  a  figurative  representation 
of  the  candidate's  inclosure  under  the  Pastes;  and  this 
place  of  penance  in  the  Celtic  mysteries,  which  had  many 
ceremonies  in  common  with  those  of  Persia,  was  said  to  be 
guarded  by  the  gigantic  deity  Buanawr,  armed  with  a 
drawn  sword,  who  is  represented  as  a  most  powerful  and 
vindictive  being,  capable  in  his  fury  of  making  heaven, 
earth,  and  hell  to  tremble.  In  the  Gctfchic  mysteries,  the 
same  place  of  captivity  and  penance  is  fabled  to  be  guarded 


60  THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 

by  Heimdall,  whose  trumpet  emits  so  loud  a  blast,  that  the 
sound  is  heard  through  all  the  worlds. 

"  In  this  emergency  the  king  sends  a  messenger  to  Zaul, 
the  father  of  the  hero  Rustam,  begging  his  immediate 
assistance.  For  the  greater  despatch,  Rustam  takes  the 
shorter,  though  more  dangerous  'road,  and  departs  alone, 
mounted  on  his  charger  Rakesh." 

Here  Rustam  enters  upon  the  dreadful  and  dangerous 
business  of  initiation,  mounted,  says  the  legend,  upon  the 
charger  Rakesh,  or  more  properly  Rakshi.  This  was  a 
horrible  winged  animal,  whose  common  food  is  said  to  have 
been  serpents  and  dragons.  Now  these  reptiles,  together 
with  monsters  compounded  of  two  or  more  animals,  were  the 
ordinary  machinery  used  in  the  mysteries  to  prove  the 
courage  and  fortitude  of  the  aspirant,  during  his  progress 
through  the  seven  stages  of  regeneration. 

"  The  course  which  he  chooses  is  styled,  The  Road  of  the 
Seven  Stages  ;  and  at  each  of  the  first  six  he  meets  with  a 
ddferent  adventure  by  which  his  persevering  courage  is 
severely  tried." 

At  each  of  the  seven  stages  the  uandidate  really  encoun- 
tered many  dangers,  and  vanquished  a  multitude  of  dives, 
dragons  and  enchanters,  who  in  succession  opposed  his 
progress  to  perfection.  Being  pantomimically  enacted  dur- 
ing the  process  of  initiation,  and  the  reiterated  attacks 
prosecuted  with  unrelenting  severity,  instances  have  occur- 
red where  the  poor  affrighted  wretch  has  absolutely  expired 
through  excess  of  fear. 

"  Having  at  length,  however,  fought  his  way  to  the  ser- 


THE     MASONIC      LADDER.  61 

enth,  he  discovers  his  prince  and  the  captive  Persians ; 
when  he  learns  from  Cai-Cuus,  that  nothing  will  restore  his 
sight  but  the  application  of  three  drops  of  blood  from  the 
heart  of  the  White  Giant." 

The  symbolical  three  drops  of  blood  had  its  counterpart 
in  all  the  mysteries  of  the  ancient  world ;  for  the  number 
three  was  ineffable,  and  the  conservator  of  many  virtues. 
In  Britain,  the  emblem  was  three  drops  of  water  ;  in  Mex- 
ico, as  in  this  legend,  three  drops  of  blood ;  in  India,  it  was 
a  belt  composed  of  three  triple  threads ;  in  China,  three 
strokes  of  the  letter  Y,  &c.  &c. 

"  Upon  this,  he  attacks  his  formidable  enemy  in  the 
cavern  where  he  was  accustomed  to  dwell ;  and  having  torn 
out  his  heart,  after  an  obstinate  combat,  he  infuses  the  pre- 
scribed three  drops  into  the  eyes  of  Cai-Caus,  who  immedi- 
ately regains  his  powers  of  vision." 

In  this  tale  we  have  the  theological  Ladder  connected 
with  the  system  of  Persian  initiation  transferred  from 
mythology  to  romance ;  and  the  coincidence  is  sufficiently 
striking  to  impress  the  most  ordinary  observer  with  the 
strict  propriety  of  the  application.  The  candidate  comes 
off  conqueror,  and  is  regularly  restored  to  light,  after  hav- 
ing given  full  proof  of  his  courage  and  fortitude,  by  sur- 
mounting all  opposing  dangers.  Father  Angelo,  who  went 
out  as  a  missionary  into  the  East  about  1663,  says,  that  in 
the  midst  of  a  vast  plain  between  Shiraz  and  Shuster,  he 
saw  a  quadrangular  monument  of  stupendous  size,  which 
was  said  to  have  been  erected  in  memory  of  this  great  enter- 
prise of  the  hero  Rustam.  The  fact  is.  that  this  quadrangu- 


62  THE     MASONIC      LADDER. 

lar  inclosure  was  an  ancient  place  of  initiation ;  and  from  a 
confused  romembrance  of  the  scenes  of  mimic  adventure 
which  were  represented  within  its  seven  secret  caverns,  the 
fabulous  labors  of  Rustaui  had  doubtless  their  origin. 

It  is  not  the  least  singular  part  of  this  inquiry,  that  the 
followers  of  Mahomet  still  use  the  same  form  of  expression 
to  convey  an  idea  of  the  progressive  state  of  torment  in  the 
infernal  regions.  This  is  only  a  continuation  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  mysteries,  which  taught,  that  the  initiation  of 
candidates  was  in  reality  a  representation  of  the  descent  of 
the  soul  into  Hades,  and  of  its  passage  through  the  seven 
stages  of  purification  preparatory  to  its  admission  into  the 
abode  of  light  and  purity.  Thay  say  that  hell  has  seven 
gates,  each  containing  a  different  degree  of  punishment. 
The  first  and  least  severe  they  call  Gehennem,  which  is 
prepared  for  all  Mussulmen  who  are  sinners.  The  second 
called  Ladha,  is  for  the  Christians.  The  third  is  the  Jew- 
ish hell,  and  called  Hothama.  Sair,  the  fourth,  is  for 
Sabians ;  and  Sacar,  the  fifth,  for  Magians.  Pagans  and 
idolaters  occupy  the  sixth,  which  they  call  Gehim ;  and  the 
lowest  and  most  horrible  depth  of  hell  they  assign  to 
hypocrites,  who  pretend  to  more  religion  than  their  neigh- 
bors, and  set  themselves  up  as  patterns  of  perfection,  while 
inwardly  they  are  full  of  all  kinds  of  wickedness  and 
impiety.  This  dreadful  gate,  or  place  of  eternal  punish- 
ment, is  called  Haoviath. 

The  reader  will  wonder  at  these  very  extraordinary  coin- 
cidences, which  are  exceedingly  valuable,  because  unde- 
signed, and  render  the  conjecture  highly  probable  that  they 


THE      MASONIC      LADDER.  58 

were  but  an  imitation  of  the  Masonic  Ladder,  as  used  in 
our  science  before  the  mysteries  had  a  being.  But  I  have 
yet  to  introduce  to  notice  a  coincidence  still  more  remarka- 
ble, because  proceeding  from  a  country  where  such  a  tra- 
dition could  scarcely  be  expected  to  exist.  Yet  it  is  no  less 
true  that  distinct  traces  of  this  Ladder,  attended  by  the 
very  same  references,  are  found  in  the  inhospitable  regions 
of  Scandinavia,  which  have  been  indubitably  preserved  in 
the  Gothic  mysteries,  though  the  application  is  somewhat 
more  obscure. 

"  The  court  of  the  gods,"  says  the  Edda,  "  is  ordinarily 
kept  under  a  great  ash  tree  called  Ydrasil,  where  they  dis- 
tribute justice.  This  ash  is  the  greatest  of  all  trees  ;  its 
branches  cover  the  surface  of  the  earth  ;  its  top  reaches  to 
the  highest  heavens  ;  and  it  is  supported  by  three  vast  roots, 
one  of  which  extends  to  the  ninth  world  or  hell.  An  eagle, 
whose  piercing  eye  discovers  all  things,  perches  upon  its 
uppermost  branches.  A  squirrel  is  continually  running  up 
and  down  to  bring  news ;  while  a  parcel  of  serpents, 
fastened  to  the  trunk,  endeavor  to  destroy  him.  The  por- 
pent  Nidhogger  continually  gnaws  at  its  root.  From  under 
one  of  the  roots  runs  a  fountain,  wherein  wisdom  lies  con- 
cealed. From  a  neighboring  spring  (the  fountain  of  past 
things),  three  virgins  are  continually  drawing  a  precious 
water^  with  which  they  irrigate  the  ash  tree  ;  this  water 
keeps  up  the  beauty  of  its  foliage,  and  after  having  refreshed 
its  leaves  falls  back  again  to  the  earth,  where  it  forms  the 
dew  of  which  the  bees  make  their  honey." 

Mr.  Mallet  offers  no  conjecture  on  this  mysterious  tree, 


64  THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 

and  Mr.  Cottle  fairly  gives  it  up.  I  pronounce  it,  however, 
to  have  been  the  Theological  Ladder  of  the  Gothic  mys- 
teries. Mr.  Cottle,  in  the  preface  to  his  interesting  version 
of  the  Edda  of  Saemund,  says,  "  The  symbolical  purport 
of  this  tree  is  inexplicable  amidst  the  dearth  of  information 
respecting  the  ancient  religion  of  Scandinavia."  And  with- 
out a  reference  to  the  various  systems  of  initiation  into  the 
religious  mysteries  of  other  nations,  I  should  incline  to  that 
gentleman's  opinion.  But  by  comparing  the  qualities  and 
characteristics  of  this  sacred  tree  with  the  ladder  of  the 
mysteries,  the  difficulty  vanishes,  and  the  solution  appears 
at  once  simple  and  natural. 

The  basis  of  Ydrasil,  like  that  of  Jacob's  Ladder,  was 
the  earth,  where  it  was  firmly  established  by  three  vast 
roots  ;  one  of  which  extended  to  the  central  abyss.  These 
roots  evidently  referred  to  the  three  lower  gates  or  cham- 
bers of  initiation ;  the  last  of  which  was  Hades,  or  the 
region  of  the  dead.  Its  branches  covered  the  earth  and  its 
top  reached  to  the  heavens,  where  sat  enthroned  an  eagle, 
the  representative  of  the  Supreme  God.  The  court  of  the 
inferior  gods  was  said  to  be  under  this  tree;  and  Jacob 
said  of  the  place  where  the  foot  of  his  ladder  was  situated, 
this  is  the  house  of  God  and  the  gate  of  heaven.  On  its 
summit  sat  the  emblematical  eagle,  as  Jehovah  appeared  on 
the  Ladder  of  Jacob,  or  on  the  paradisiacal  mountain ;  and 
this  bird,  as  we  have  already  seen,  was  actually  a  com- 
ponent part  of  the  visible  symbol  of  the  true  God,  as 
exhibited  in  the  Jewish  Cherubim,  and  the  universal  repre- 
sentation of  the  Deity  in  almost  every  nation  under  heaven. 


THE     MASONIC     LADDER.  65 

A  squirrel,  or  messenger,  continually  ascended  and  descend- 
ed to  carry  celestial  commissions  frpm  the  eagle-deity,  to 
the  council  of  inferior  gods  seated  below  ;  whence  they  wi-re 
supposed  to  be  disseminated  over  the  face  of  the  earth. 
And  the  same  subordinate  deities  were  said  to  take  cogni- 
zance of  the  actions  of  mortals,  and  to  convey  an  impartial 
account  thereof  by  the  squirrel  to  the  Deity  seated  on  the 
summit  of  the  tree ;  which  was  also  the  office  of  the  angelic 
messengers  on  Jacob's  Ladder.  A  parcel  of  serpents, 
symbols  of  the  evil  power,  unceasingly  endeavored  to  inter- 
cept the  communication  between  God  and  man,  by  the 
destruction  of  the  messenger.  The  monstrous  serpent, 
Nidhogger,  who  is  the  representation  of  the  prince  of  dark- 
ness himself,  we  are  further  told,  continually  gnaws  its  root 
for  the  same  purpose,  willing  to  sever  the  connection 
between  the  Creator  and  his  fallen  creature,  by  the  total 
demolition  of  the  medium  through  which  the  benevolent 
communication  is  carried  on.  In  the  Hindu  mythology,  the 
prince  of  evil  demons  is  represented  as  a  large  serpent, 
whose  name  is  Naga.  And  the  Hebrew  name  for  the 
tempter  of  Eve  in  Paradise,  translated  in  our  version  o£  the 
Bible,  "  the  serpent,"  was  Nachash.  These  were  both  the 
Nidhogger  of  the  Gothic  mysteries.  In  the  Essenian  mys- 
teries, the  Holy  Bible  was  figuratively  said  to  be  the  conse- 
crated foundation  of  Jacob's  Ladder,  because  the  covenants 
and  promises  of  God  are  permanently  recorded  in  that 
sacred  book ;  and  this  basis  the  old  serpent  who  deceived 
Eve,  is  continually  endeavoring  to  destroy,  by  subverting 
the  faith  of  mankind  in  its  contents. 


66  THE     MASONIC      LADDER. 

The  three  roots  are  emblems  of  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity, 
because  it  is  by  the  exercise  of  these  virtues  alone  that 
man  can  enjoy  a  well-grounded  expectation  of  ascending 
from  earth  to  heaven.  Three  virgins,  symbols  of  Past, 
Present,  and  Future,  continually  watered  this  Tree  from 
the  fountain  of  Past  Things  ;  which  is  expressive  of  the 
solemn  truth,  that  tho  deeds  of  men  shall  be  kept  in  perpet- 
ual remembrance  until  the  last  day,  when  they  shall  bo 
rewarded  or  punished  according  to  their  works.  From  the 
surplus  of  this  water  which  fell  to  the  earth  after  having 
refreshed  the  leaves  of  the  Ash,  the  bees  made  their  honey. 
In  all  the  ancient  mysteries,  Honey  was  an  acknowledged 
symbol  of  death ;  and  is  said  in  this  case  to  have  been  pro- 
duced from  the  refuse  of  the  water,  which,  being  rejected 
by  the  sacred  Tree,  referred  unquestionably  to  the  evil 
deeds  contained  in  the  water  of  Past  Things  (the  good 
actions  having  been  absorbed  by  the  Ash,  and  consequently 
accepted  by  the  supreme  Being,  personified  by  the  eagle)  ; 
and  hence  the  honey  which  was  concocted  from  it  was 
emblematical  of  that  second  death,  which  forms  the  eternal 
punishment  of  sin. 

In  illustration  of  the  contents  of  this  article,  I  here  intro- 
duce the  following  table,  which  will  exhibit  the  Seven- 
Stepped  Ladder  of  the  Mysteries  in  all  its  various  and 

extensive  application. 

G.  0. 


THE     MASONIC     LADDER. 


fcO 

2.0 


| 

i 
p 

j. 
fi 

P 

t 

T> 

I 


t 


2? 


-? 
PI 


ill 

a>  ®  2 


THREE     PILLARS      OF     MASONRY. 

We  have  here  a  most  extraordinary  coincidence  of  custom 
with  respect  to  the  Masonic  Ladder  existing  in  every  region 
of  the  world,  and  all  equally  applicable  to  a  gradual  ascent 
to  heaven  by  the  practice  of  moral  virtue.  Amongst  us 
this  practice  is  founded  on  the  strong  basis  of  Faith,  which 
is  the  first  step  of  the  Ladder  resting  on  the  word  of  God. 
It  produces  a  well-grounded  hope  of  sharing  the  promises 
recorded  in  that  sacred  volume ;  and  this  is  the  second  step 
of  the  Masonic  Ladder.  The  third,  a  most  perfect  step, 
is  Charity,  by  which  we  attain  the  summit  of  the  Ladder  ; 
metaphorically  speaking,  the  dominion  of  bliss,  and  the 
mansion  of  pure  and  permanent  delight.  G.  o. 


o? 


THE  emblematical  foundation  of  a  Mason's  Lodge  is, 
Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty.  These  three  noble  Pillars 
give  it  a  stability,  which  no  exertion  of  art  or  ingenuity  can 
subvert,  no  force  can  overthrow.  They  were  thus  named 
in  allusion  to  the  perfection  with  which  our  system  has  been 
endowed  by  the  Almighty  Architect  ;  because  without 
Wisdom  to  contrive,  Strength  to  support,  and  Beauty  to 
adorn,  no  structure  can  be  perfect.  And  this  is  illustrated 
by  a  reference  to  the  most  splendid  and  awful  images  which 
can  be  presented  to  the  human  mind.  The  universe  is  the 
temple  of  the  Deity  whom  we  serve  ;  Wisdom,  Strength,  and 


THREE     PILLARS      OF      MASONRY.  59 

Beauty  are  about  his  throne  as  Pillars  of  his  Works,  for 
his  "wisdom  is  infinite,  his  strength  is  omnipotence,  and  his 
beauty  shines  forth  through  all  his  creation  in  symmetry 
and  order.  He  hath  stretched  forth  the  heavens  as  a 
canopy,  the  earth  he  hath  planted  as  his  footstool ;  he  hath 
crowned  this  superb  temple  with  stars  as  with  a  diadem, 
and  in  his  hand  he  extendeth  the  power  and  the  glory  ;  the 
sun  and  moon  are  messengers  of  his  will,  and  all  his  laws 
are  concord.  This  universal  harmony  of  nature  and  nature's 
works,  emblematical  of  the  peace  and  unity  which  subsists 
in  a  Mason's  Lodge,  is  produced  from  the  union  of  those 
sublime  qualities  by  which  our  fabric  is  supported,  Wisdom, 
Strength,  arid  Beauty. 

The  first  Pillars  used  by  the  primitive  inhabitants  of  the 
earth,  were  merely  trunks  of  trees,  placed  upright  on  stones 
to  elevate  them  above  the  damp,  and  covered  at  the  top  with 
a  flat  stone  to  keep  off  the  rain.  On  these  the  roofs  of  their 
huts  were  placed,  covered  with  reeds  and  plastered  with  clay 
to  resist  the  effects  of  tempestuous  weather.  From  such  sim- 
ple elements  sprang  the  noble  Orders  of  Architecture.  But 
pillars  were  not  confined  to  this  use  alone.  In  primitive 
times  they  were  appropriated  to  the  purpose  of  perpetuating 
remarkable  events,  and  were  erected  as  monuments  of  grati- 
tude to  divine  Providence  for  favors  conferred,  or  for  dangers 
avoided.  By  the  idolatrous  race  who  first  seceded  from  the 
trufc  worship  of  God,  Pillars  were  dedicated  to  the  Hqst  of 
Heaven.  Of  this  nature  were  the  Pillars  set  up  by  Hyp- 
souranios  and  Ousous  to  Fire  and  Air  before  the  Flood, 
which  were  termed  Banvha.  Osiris  set  up  Pillars  in  com- 


00  THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY. 

memoration  of  his  conquests,  on  which  were  hieroglyphical 
inscriptions,  importing  the  degree  of  resistance  made  by  the 
inhabitants  of  those  countries  which  he  subdued.  The 
ancient  kings  of  Egypt  followed  this  example,  and  usually 
engraved  records  of  their  conquests,  power,  and  magnifi- 
cence on  obelisks  or  pillars.  Sesotris,  in  his  military  pro- 
gress through  the  nations  he  had  vanquished,  erected  Pillars 
on  wliich  hieroglyphical  inscriptions  were  engraven,  accom- 
panied by  certain  emblematical  devices,  expressive  of  the 
bravery  or  pusillanimity  of  the  conquered  people.  And,  if 
Proclus  may  be  believed,  all  extraordinary  events,  singular 
transactions,  and  new  inventions,  were  recorded  by  the 
Egyptians  on  stone  pillars.  Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  accord- 
ing to  Menander,  dedicated  a  pillar  of  gold  to  Jupiter,  on 
the  grand  junction  he  had  formed  between  Eurichorus  and 
Tyre. 

This  custom  was  also  in  use  amongst  the  descendants  of 
Seth  and  Shem,  who  erected  Pillars  to  the  honor  of  the  true 
God,  the  creator  and  preserver  of  all  things.  Enoch 
erected  two  Pillars,  in  order  to  transmit  his  knowledge  to 
posterity,  by  inscriptions  engraven  on  such  materials  as 
were  calculated  to  resist  the  element  by  which  the  world 
was  to  be  destroyed.  The  Pillar  of  Jacob,  at  Bethel,  was 
to  commemorate  his  most  extraordinary  vision  and  covenant 
with  God.  On  this  pillar  he  poured  oil,  whence  arose  the 
custom  amongst  the  heathen  of  consecrating  their  idols  toy 
anointing  them  with  oil.  A  similar  monument  was  erected 
by  the  same  patriarch  at  Galeed,  to  perpetuate  the  treaty 
of  amity  with  his  uncle  Laban ;  by  Joshua  at  Gilgal3  on 


THREE      PILLARS      OF      MASONRY.  61 

his  miraculous  passage  over  the  river  Jordan ;  and  by 
Samuel,  between  Mizpeli  and  Shen,  on  a  remarkable  defeat 
of  the  Philistines.  Absalom  erected  a  Pillar  in  honor  of 
himself,  which,  as  we  are  told  by  modern  travellers,  remains 
to  this  day  ;  but  Dr.  Lloyd  says  that  the  passers-by  throw 
stones  at  it  in  detestation  of  his  memory.  And  Solomon 
set  up  two  Pillars  at  the  entrance  of  the  Porch  of  the 
Temple,  to  remind  the  Jews  of  their  dependence  upon  God 
for  everything  they  possessed ;  evidenced  by  their  escape 
from  Egypt,  and  their  miraculous  wandering  and  preserva- 
tion in  the  wilderness  for  a  period  of  forty  years. 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  commemorative  Columns  were 
used  by  every  nation  of  the  world,  and  never  with  more 
propriety  and  effect,  than  in  our  own  country  at  the  present 
day. 

The  particular  Pillars  which  are  the  subject  of  this 
Article,  are  emblematical  of  three  great  masonic  characters, 
whose  united  abilities  rendered  an  essential  service  to  true 
religion,  by  the  construction  of  a  primitive  Temple,  then 
first  dedicated  to  the  exclusive  purpose  of  religious 
ship,  for  they  jointly  possessed  the  essential  properties 
which  characterise  the  three  great  sustaining  Pillars  of 
our  Lodge ; — the  one  had  Wisdom  to  contrive ;  the  other 
had  Strength  to  support  5*  and  the  third  possessed  genius 

*  "  Tatian,  in  his  Book  against  the  Greeks,  relates,  that  amongst  the  Phaenicians 
flourished  three  ancient  historians,  Theodotus,  Hysicrates,  and  Mochus,  who  all  of 
them  delivered  in  their  histories  an  account  of  the  league  and  friendship  between 
Solomon  and  Hiram,  when  Hiram  gave  his  daughter  to  Solomon,  and  furnished  him 
with  timber  for  building  the  Temple.  The  same  is  affirmed  by  Menander  of  P*r 
gamus."  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Chron.  p.  114. 


82  THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY. 

and  ability  to  adorn  the  edifice  with  unexampled  beauty. 
The  result  of  this  union  was  "  a  building  which  highly 
transcended  all  that  we  are  capable  to  imagine,  and  has 
ever  been  esteemed  the  finest  piece  of  masonry  upon  earth, 
before  or  since."  This  magnificent  work  was  begun  in 
Mount  Moriah,  on  Monday  the  second  day  of  the  month 
Zif,  wlu'ch  answers  to  the  twenty-first  of  our  April,  being 
the  second  month  of  the  sacred  year,  and  was  carried  on 
with  such  speed,  that  it  was  finished  in  all  its  parts  in  little 
more  than  seven  years,  which  happened  on  the  eighth  day 
of  the  month  Bui,  which  answers  to  the  twenty-third  of  our 
October,  being  the  seventh  month  of  the  sacred  year,  and 
the  eleventh  of  King  Solomon.  What  is  still  more  aston- 
ishing is,  that  every  piece  of  it,  whether  timber,  stone,  or 
metal,  was  brought  ready  cut,  framed,  and  polished  to 
Jerusalem ;  so  that  no  other  tools  were  wanted  nor  heard 
than  what  were  necessary  to  join  the  several  parts  together. 
AH  the  noise  of  axe,  hammer,  and  saw,  was  confined  to 
Lebanon,  and  the  quarries  and  plains  of  Zeredathah,  that 
nothing  might  be  heard  amongst  the  masons  of  Zion,  save 
harmony  and  peace. 

These  Pillars  refer  further  to  the  three  governors  of  the 
Lodge.  The  Pillar  of  Wisdom  represents  the  W.  M., 
whose  business  is  to  exert  his  judgment  and  penetration  in 
contriving  the  most  proper  and  efficient  means  of  complet- 
ing the  intended  work,  of  what  nature  soever  it  may  be. 
The  Pillar  of  Strength  refers  to  the  S.  W.,  whose  duty  is 
to  support  the  authority,  and  facilitate  the  designs  of  the 
Master,  with  all  his  influence  amongst  the  brethren,  and  to 


THREE     PILLARS      OF      MASONRY.  63 

see  that  his  commands  are  carried  into  full  and  permanent 
effect.  The  Pillar  of  Beauty  is  the  J.  W.,  whose  duty  is 
to  adorn  the  work  with  all  his  powers  of  genius  and  active 
industry ;  to  promote  regularity  amongst  the  Brethren  by 
the  sanction  of  his  own  good  example,  the  persuasive 
eloquence  of  precept,,  and  a  discriminative  encouragement 
of  merit.  Thus,  by  the  united  energies  of  these  three  pre- 
siding Officers,  the  system  is  adorned  and  established  firm 
as  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean,  braving  the  malignant 
shafts  of  envy  and  detraction ;  its  summit  gilded  with  the 
rays  of  the  meridian  sun,  though  stormy  winds  and  waves 
beat  eternally  on  its  basis. 

In  the  British  and  other  mysteries,  these  three  Pillars 
represented  the  great  emblematical  Triad  of  Deity,  as  with 
us  they  refer  to  the  three  principal  officers  of  the  Lodge. 
We  shall  find,  however,  that  the  symbolical  meaning  was 
the  same  in  both.  It  is  a  fact,  that  in  Britain  the  Adytum 
or  Lodge  was  actually  supported  by  three  stones  or  pillars, 
which  were  supposed  to  convey  a  regenerating  purity  to  the 
aspirant,  after  having  endured  the  ceremony  of  initiation  in 
all  its  accustomed  formalities.  The  delivery  from  between 
them  was  termed  a  new  birth.  The  corresponding  Pillars 
of  the  Hindu  mythology  were  also  known  by  the  names  of 
Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty,  and  placed  in  the  east, 
west,  and  south,  crowned  with  three  human  heads.  Tln-y 
jointly  referred  to  the  Creator,  who  was  said  to  have- 
planned  the  great  work  by  his  infinite  Wisdom  ',  executed 
it  by  his  Strength  ;  and  to  have  adorned  it  with  all  its 
Beauty  and  usefulness  for  the  benefit  of  man.  These 


64  THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY. 

united  powers  were  not  overlooked  in  the  mysteries,  for  we 
find  them  represented  in  the  solemn  ceremony  of  initiation 
by  the  three  presiding  Brahmins  or  Hierophants.  The 
chief  Brahmin  sat  in  the  east,  high  exalted  on  a  brilliant 
throne,  clad  in  a  flowing  robe  of  azure,  thickly  spangled 
with  golden  stars,  and  bearing  in  Ids  hand  a  magical  rod, 
thus  symbolizing  Brahma  the  creator  of  the  world.  His 
two  compeers,  clad  in  robes  of  regal  magnificence,  occupied 
corresponding  situations  of  distinction.  The  representative 
-him,  the  setting  sun,  was  placed  on  an  exalted  throne 
in  the  west ;  and  he  who  personated  Siva,  the  meridian  sun, 
occupied  a  splendid  throne  in  the  south. 

The  Masonic  Lodge,  bounded  only  by  the  extreme  points 
of  the  compass,  the  highest  heavens,  and  the  lowest  depth 
of  the  central  abyss,  is  said  to  be  supported  by  three  Pillars, 
Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty.  In  like  manner  the  Per- 
sians, who  termed  their  emblematical  Mithratic  Cave  or 
Lodge,  the  Empyrean,  feigned  it  to  be  supported  by  three 
Intelligences,  Ormisda,  Mithra,  and  Mithras,  who  were 
usually  denominated,  from  certain  characteristics  which 
they  were  supposed  individually  to  possess,  Eternity, 
Fecundity,  and  Authority.  Similar  to  this  were  the  forms 
of  the  Egyptian  Deity,  designated  by  the  attributes  of 
Wisdom,  Power,  and  Goodness  ;  and  the  Sovereign  Good., 
Intellect,  and  Energy  of  the  Platonists,  which  were  also 
regarded  as  the  respective  properties  of  the  divine  Triad. 

It  is  remarkable  that  every  mysterious  system  practised 
on  the  habitable  globe  contained  this  Triad  of  Deity,  which 
some  writers  refer  to  the  Trinity ;  and  others  to  the  triple 


THREE     PILLARS      OF     MASONRY.  65 

offspring  of  Noah.  The  oracle  in  Damascius  asserts  that 
"  throughout  the  world  a  Triad  shines  forth^  which  resolves 
itself  into  a  Monad  ;"  and  the  uniform  symbol  of  this 
threefold  deity  was  an  equilateral  triangle  ;  the  precise  form 
occupied  by  our  Pillars  of  Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty. 
In  the  mysteries  of  India,  Brahma — Vishnu — Siva,  were 
considered  as  a  tri-une  God,  distinguished  by  the  significant 
appellation  of  Tri-murti.  Brahma  was  said  to  be  the 
Creator,  Vishnu  the  Preserver,  and  Siva  the  Judge  or 
Destroyer.  In  the  east,  as  the  Pillar  of  Wisdom,  this 
deity  was  called  Brahma ;  in  the  west,  as  the  Pillar  of 
Strength,  Vishnu ;  and  in  the  south,  as  the  Pillar  of  Beauty, 
Siva ;  and  hence,  in  the  Indian  initiations,  as  we  have  just 
observed,  the  representative  of  Brahma  was  seated  in  the 
east ;  that  of  Vishnu  in  the  west ;  and  that  of  Siva  in  the 
south.  A  very  remarkable  coincidence  with  the  praotico 
of  ancient  Masonry. 

Mr.  Faber  offers  the  following  reasonable  conjecture  on 
the  origin  of  these  idolatrous  Triads  :  "  Adam  was  born 
from  the  virgin  earth  ;  Noah  was  produced  from  his  alle- 
gorical mother  the  Ark.  Each  was  a  preacher  of  righteous- 
ness ;  each  dwelt  upon  the  paradisiacal  mount  of  God ; 
each  was  a  universal  parent.  If  Adam  introduced  one 
world,  Noah  destroyed  that  world  and  introduced  another ; 
and  as  the  actual  circumstance  of  two  successive  worlds 
led  to  the  doctrine  of  an  endless  mundane  succession,  each 
patriarch  was  alike  received  as  a  Creator,  a  Preserver,  and 
a  Destroyer."  Sir  William  Jones  very  strongly  reprobates 
the  principle  which  would  resolve  these  triads  into  the 


THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY. 

doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  In  his  essay  on  the  gods  of  Italy, 
Greece  and  India,  he  says :  "  Very  respectable  natives 
have  assuivd  me  that  one  or  two  missionaries  have  been 
absurd  enough,  in  their  zeal  for  the  conversion  of  the  gen- 
tiles, to  urge,  that  the  Hindus  were  even  now  almost  Chris- 
tians, because  their  Brahma,  Vishnu,  and  Mahesa  (Siva) 
were  no  other  than  the  Christian  Trinity ;  a  sentence  in 
which  we  can  only  doubt  whether  folly,  ignorance,  or 
impiety  predominates.  The  three  powers,  creative,  pre- 
servative, and  destructive,  which  the  Hindus  express  by 
the  trilateral  word  OM,  were  grossly  ascribed  by  the  first 
idolaters  to  the  heat,  light,  and  flame  of  their  mistaken 
divinity,  the  Sun  ;  and  their  wiser  successors  in  the  East, 
who  perceived  that  the  Sun  was  only  a  created  thing, 
applied  those  powers  to  its  Creator ;  but  the  Indian  Triad, 
and  that  of  Plato,  which  he  calls  the  Supreme  Good,  the 
Reason,  and  the  Soul,  are  infinitely  removed  from  the  holi- 
ness and  sublimity  of  the  doctrine  which  pious  Christians 
have  deduced  from  texts  in  the  gospel."  "  In  another 
point  of  view,"  says  Captain  Wilford,  "  Brahma  corres- 
ponds with  the  Chronos  or  Time  of  the  Greek  mytholo- 
gists ;  Vishnu  represents  Water,  or  the  humid  principle  ; 
and  Iswara  (another  name  of  Siva)  Fire,  which  recreates 
or  destroys  as  it  is  differently  employed." 

It  seems  not  altogether  improbable,  however,  but  these 
Triads,  which  are  quaintly  termed  by  Purchas,  "  an  apish 
imitation  of  the  Trinity,  brought  in  by  the  devil,"  might 
originate  from  a  tradition  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  revealed  to 
Adam,  and  propagated  by  his  descendants  through  the 


THREE      PILLARS      OF      MASONRY.  67 


antediluvian  world.  Known  consequently  to  Noah  and  his 
family,  this  doctrine  would  spread  with  every  migration  of 
their  posterity ;  and  as  it  certainly  formed  a  part  of  that 
original  system  which  is  now  termed  Masonry,  so  it  was  in- 
troduced into  every  perversion  of  that  system,  until  the  doc- 
trine of  a  divine  Triad,  resolvable  into  a  monad,  was 
universally  disseminated  in  every  nation,  and  was  admit- 
ted by  every  people  in  the  world.  In  successive  ages  the 
true  purport  became  lost  or  misunderstood,  but  the  princi- 
ple remained,  though  its  application  ceased  to  be  made  to 
the  true  God  and  Father  of  all,  and  was  generally  trans- 
ferred to  the  three  sons  of  Noah,  as  a  triplication  of  the 
mortal  father  of  the  human  race. 

In  Britain  the  Triad  was  usually  represented  by  three 
Pillars,  and  many  monuments  remain  which  show  to  what 
an  extent  this%ystem  of  devotion  was  carried  by  the  British 
Druids.  These  Pillars  were  not  always  uniform  either  in 
dimensions  or  situation,  but  were  differently  placed,  either 
triangularly,  or  in  a  right  line  ;  and  were  certainly  objects 
of  adoration  to  the  superstitious  natives.  The  celebrated 
Pillars  at  Boroughbridge  were  of  this  nature.  They  con- 
sist of  three  colossal  upright  stones,  placed  at  about  two 
hundred  feet  distant  from  each  other,  and  stand  about 
twenty-two  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  ground,  measuring 
on  an  average  sixteen  feet  in  circumference.  They  are 
termed  by  the  country  people  "  The  Devil's  Arrows,"  which 
corroborates  the  opinion  that  they  were  British  Deities  ;  for 
it  is  a  singular  fact,  that  every  monument  which  has  this 
name  attached  to  it,  is  supposed  to  have  been  peculiarly 


68  THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY. 

sacred.  Leland  tells  us  that  there  were  originally  four 
Pillars,  and  that  one  of  them  has  been  destroyed.  This 
might  have  been  of  still  more  extensive  magnitude,  and 
designed  to  express  the  triad  completed  in  a  monad.  The 
three  stones  which  formed  one  of  the  Adyta  in  the  stupend- 
ous Druid  Temple  at  Abury  in  Wiltshire,  said  by  Gough  in 
Camden  to  have  served  for  a  Chapel,  are  called  by  Aubrey 
"  The  Devil's  Quoits."  A  Kist-vaen  in  Clatford  bottom,  in 
the  same  county,  is  also  composed  of  three  upright  stones, 
and  is  called,  "  The  Devil's  Den."  In  the  parish  of  Llan 
Rhwy-Drus,  in  that  grand  depository  of  Druidical  super- 
stition, Anglesey,  are  the  remains  of  this  species  of  idol. 
Gibson  in  Camden  informs  us  that  they  are  placed  trian- 
gularly ;  one  is  eleven  feet,  and  the  others  ten  and  nine  feet 
in  height.  On  a  mountain  near  Kil  y  maen  Ihwyd  in  Caer- 
marthenshire,  is  another  specimen  of  this  kind  of  monument, 
placed  near  a  circular  temple.  In  Penrith  church-yard,  in 
the  county  of  Cumberland,  still  remain  three  Pillars  placed 
triangularly,  and  erected  on  other  stones,  to  avoid  the  sup- 
posed contamination  of  the  earth.  Two  of  them  are  about 
twelve  feet,  and  the  third  about  six  feet  in  height.  The 
two  former  enclose  a  space  of  ground  which  is  traditionally 
denominated  "  The  Giant's  Grave  ;"  and  the  latter  is  called 
"  The  Giant's  Thumb."  Now,  the  British  deities  were  all 
esteemed  giants  ;  and  the  tradition  in  this  instance  corres- 
ponds with  the  fact.  Besides,  the  Pastes,  or  symbolical 
grave,  in  which  the  candidate  suffered  a  mythological  inter- 
ment, was  said  to  be  guarded  by  the  gigantic  deity  Buanwr, 
and  if  these  three  Pillars  formed  constituent  parts  of  an 


THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY.  69 

adytum,  which  is  highly  probable,  the  name  it  now  retains 
is  perfectly  consistent  with  the  pure  principles  of  British 
mythology.  Much  has  been  written  on  the  subject  of  these 
Pillars  by  all  our  best  antiquaries,  who  seem  to  agree  that 
they  were  of  British  erection,  though  they  could  not  account 
for  their  being  inscribed  with  a  Cross.  But  this  doubtless 
arose  from  the  anxiety  uniformly  displayed  by  the  first 
Christian  missionaries  to  transfer  the  devotional  attachment 
of  the  natives  from  a  lifeless  image  to  the  eternal  God,  by 
assuming  the  great  emblem  of  Christianity,  which  had 
indeed  been  previously  used  by  the  Druids,  but  with  a  dif- 
ferent allusion.  And  this  conjecture  is  strikingly  exem- 
plified by  the  fact,  that  a  Christian  church  was  erected 
within  the  actual  bounds  of  this  sanctuary  of  idolatry. 

Such  were  the  representatives  of  Hu — Ceridwen — Creir- 
wy — the  principal  deities  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  Brit- 
ain, or  their  substitutes,  the  three  presiding  officerS  of  the 
British  mysteries,  who  were  denominated  Cadeiriath,  Goron- 
wy,  and  Fleidwr  Flam,  seated  in  the  east,  west,  and  south. 
Before  these  senseless  blocks  of  unhewn  stone,  the  more 
senseless  inhabitants  of  Britain  prostrated  themselves  daily 
in  humble  adoration,  firmly  persuaded  that  their  prosperity 
in  every  undertaking — nay,  even  the  preservation  of  their 
lives  and  liberties,  was  dependent  on  the  beneficent  agency 
of  these  shapeless  idols  ! 

We  shall  conclude  the  present  Article,  with  a  brief  consi- 
deration of  the  ultimate  reference  which  the  three  Masonic 
Pillars  bear  to  the  moral  and  religious  duties  of  Freemasons. 
As  the  Doric,  the  Ionic,  and  the  Corinthian  Orders  of 


70  THREE     PILLARS     OF     MASONRY. 

Architecture  are  said  to  support  the  Lodge,  so  let  our  conduct 
be  governed  by  the  qualities  they  represent.  Let  Wisdom 
guide  our  steps  to  that  fountain  of  knowledge  and  source 
of  truth,  the  Holy  Bible.  There  shall  we  find  rules  for  the 
government  of  our  actions,  and  the  path  that  leads  to  eter- 
nity. Even  the  science  we  profess  instructs  us,  that  if 
we  be  conversant  in  the  doctrines  of  this  Holy  Book,  and 
strictly  adherent  to  its  precepts,  it  will  conduct  us  to  a 
building  not  made  with  hands,  eternally  in  the  heavens. 
Let  us  proceed  in  this  career,  armed  with  the  Strength  of 
faith  and  hope,  assured  that  if  our  faith  in  the  Deity  be 
securely  founded,  our  constancy  can  never  fail ;  so  shall 
our  charity  shine  forth  in  all  the  Beauty  of  holiness  ;  our 
acts  of  piety  and  virtue  shall  emit  a  brilliancy  like  the  Sun 
pursuing  his  daily  course  in  the  heavens,  and  finally  secure 
us  a  place  in  the  Grand  Lodge  above,  where  Peace,  Order, 
and  Harmony,  eternally  abide. 


HYMN     TO      CHARITY.  7I 


DAUGHTER  of  heaven,  oh  would'st  thou  but  descend, 

And  with  my  numbers,  thy  sweet  spirit  blend, 

And  teach  my  cold  and  trembling  harp  to  frame 

A  paean  worthy  thy  celestial  name, 

Then  should  the  meed  of  song,  awarded  mine, 

To  thee  be  hallowed,  and  the  praise  be  thine  ! 

The  crystal  springs  that  feed  the  mountain  rills, 
The  dew  that  summer's  balmy  eve  dis: 
The  bud  that  nature's  earliest  promise  brings, 
Oh  !  these  are  pure,  and  bright,  and  lovely  things— 
But  purer,  brighter,  lovelier  far  than  these, 
The  tear  that  falls  o'er  human  miseries. 

Hast  thou  not  seen,  when  gloomy  winter  reigns, 
And  binds  the  captive  world  in  icy  chains, 
How  dread  and  desolate  creation  lies. 
Around  cold  wastes — above  the  frowning  skies  ! 
But  spring,  love-breathing  spring,  comes  laughing  forth, 
And  with  soft  music  wakes  the  torpid  earth — 
Then  gush  the  waters,  and  the  meadows  bloom, 
The  heavens  are  brightness,  and  the  gales  perfume ; 
And  nature  in  her  Eden  beauty  glows, 
Lovely  as  at  Jehovah's  word  she  rose. 
Thus  selfishness,  the  winter  of  the  mind, 
In  hate's  dark  bonds  would  human  feelings  bind ; 
While  man  an  isolated  being  dwells, 
Nor  grants  the  mercy  which  his  heart  repela ; 


72  HYMN     TO     CHARITY. 

His  soul  is  gloomy  as  the  realms  of  death — 
But  let  mild  Charity's  reviving  breath, 
The  moral  spring,  its  blessed  warmth  impart, 
How  glow  the  soft  sensations  of  the  heart ! 
Love,  peace  and  joy  the  melting  bosom  owns, 
And  kindred  minds  respond  its  kindly  tones. 

Spirit  of  Charity,  how  blest  thy  sway  ! 
And  earth  were  heaven  did  men  thy  laws  obey. 
Where'er  thy  footsteps  press  'tis  hallowed  ground — 
Thou  smil'st,  and  blessings  are  diffused  around — 
The  world  forsakes,  but  thou  wilt  bend  thine  ear, 
Each  tale  of  wo  or  penitence  to  hear  ; 
And  thine  the  hand  that  ever  grants  relief; 
And  thine  the  sympathy  that  calms  our  grief; 
And  with  thy  heaven-wrought  mantle  thou  dost  hide 
Those  frailties  envy  watches  to  deride. 

The  slave  hath  heard  thy  voice  proclaim,  "  Be  free  !" 
His  chains  are  loosed,  and  wild  with  ecstasy, 
To  Charity  his  broken  thanks  are  poured ; 
And  injured  Afric  sees  her  son  restored  : 
Again  he  treads  the  soil  his  fathers  trod, 
And  bends  in  worship  to  the  living  Qod! 
Knowledge  !  Religion  !  pearls  his  suffering  gains, 
The  only  price  that  could  repay  his  pains ; 
And  these,  diffused  by  Charity,  atone 
For  deeds  a  guilty  world  must  blush  to  own. 

And  soon  that  bright  and  blessed  morn  shall  rise, 
The  glowing  theme  of  ancient  prophecies, 
When  Charity,  with  her  attendant  Peace, 
Throned  o'er  the  world,  shall  bid  its  discord  cease ; 
Then  Truth  shall  clear  each  mote  from  Reason's  sight, 
And  every  nation  bask  in  Freedom's  light ; 
And  men  be  linked  in  holy  brotherhood, 
And  earth  regain  its  first,  best  title,  "  good !" 

8.  J.  H. 


MASONRY      REPUBLICAN.  73 


viT  A   ass  tf  3 

I  VSXXXVXX1)  V. 


THE  institution  of  Freemasonry  is  truly  republican  ;  and 
can  never  flourish,  to  the  extent  of  which  it  is  susceptible, 
under  any  other  form  of  government.  Kings  may  know  the 
secrets  of  the  craft,  yet  treason  might  lurk  behind  a  cover- 
ing contrived  to  imitate  our  Order,  and  with  clamorous 
"  proofs  of  conspiracy"  aim  to  bring  it  into  disrepute.  The 
contrariety  of  opinions  also,  on  politics,  religion,  philosophy, 
&c.,  are  not  so  well  calculated  to  foster  and  protect  the 
'principles  of  brotherly  Love  and  Charity,  which  we  profess 
to  cultivate.  And  there  is  no  country  or  community  of 
people  so  liberal  in  their  views,  so  free  from  prejudice,  but 
there  may  be  found  individuals  incapable  of  forming  a  just 
estimate  of  our  profession.  But  if  there  be  a  portion  of  the 
whole  habitable  globe,  where  the  spirit  of  toleration  pre- 
rails  in  a  higher  degree,  with  a  more  anxious  forbearance 
and  successful  influence,  than  in  others,  it  is  in  our  own  dis- 
tinguished and  beloved  country. 

Here,  under  a  government  instituted  by  our  fathers,  in 
opposition  to  the  abuses  and  tyranny  of  the  old  world,  no 
society  or  combination,  for  any  professed  worthy  purpose, 
can  provoke  a  proscription  from  those  who  govern.  The 


74  MASONRY     REPUBLICAN. 

freedom  of  opinion  and  right  of  discussion  which  every- 
where prevail  have  a  tendency  to  create  inquiry,  elicit 
knowledge,  and  furnish  correct  views  of  "  right  and  wrong." 
The  opportunity  afforded  all,  by  our  civil  institutions,  to 
rise  in  the  proportion  of  merit ;  the  intelligence  of  our  fel- 
low-citizens, their  advancing  attainments  and  improvements 
in  arts,  literature  and  social  polity,  all  warrant  the  conclu- 
sion, that  no  societies  can  exist,  or  associations  he  formed, 
"  where  liberty  dwells,"  under  sanction  or  indulgence  of  its 
enlightened  citizens,  unless  its  avowed  objects  are  innocent 
and  of  prospective  utility,  to  promote  the  public  good. 

And  what  have  we  to  fear  from  abroad  1  The  irritable 
and  the  incorrigible  prejudices  of  the  few  or  many,  the 
envy  of  the  illiterate  and  disaffected,  or  the  spleen,  hatred 
and  wrath  of  the  "  crown  and  cowl,"  are  no  concern  of 
ours !  They  shadow  not  the  bright  virtues  of  our  profes- 
sion, or  sully  the  lustre  of  the  Shield  of  Truth,  "  mighty* 
above  all  things,"  and  inwrought  with  Faith,  Hope  and 
Charity,  as  our  strong  defence,  to  countervail  the  attacks 
of  the  vicious  and  powerful,  and  like  the  "  celestial  -flSgis," 
confound  the  hydra  of  oppression.  We  heed  not  their 
threats,  malevolence  or  inquisitions.  With  our  immemorial 
laws  and  usages  in  peace  and  happiness,  we  are  protected 
within  our  hallowed  walls,  by  the  government  we  honor,  and 
the  same  merciful  kind  Providence  we  adore. 

The  governments  of  Europe  and  the  world  have  yet  to 
learn,  "  whatever  the  theory  of  their  constitutions  may  have 
been,  that  the  end  of  their  institution  is  the  happiness  of . 
the  people  ;  and  that  the  exercise  of  power  among  men  can 


MASONRY     REPUBLICAN.  75 

be  justified  only  by  the  blessings  it  confers  upon  those  over 
whom  it  is  extended."  And  where  is  the  government  thus 
justified  as  in  this  our  "happy  land?" — where  power  is  the 
offering  of  the  public  will,  and  its  career  .by  no  means  a 
limited  and  ceaseless  duration :  the  People,  sovereign ;  pre- 
rogative and  privilege,  civil  and  social  blessings,  all  flowing 
from  the  same  fountain  of  Liberty.  With  others  not  so — 
too  often  the  reverse — verified  by  the  tears  of  suffering  and 
wrongs  of  oppression,  despotism  and  tyranny,  in  all  their 
forms.  There  associations  are  watched  with  keen-eyed 
jealousy,  where  rank,  title,  power,  honor  and  interest,  run 
from  generation  to  generation,  forming  a  visible  and  dis- 
tinct line  of  demarcation,  over  which  none  can  pass,  by  the 
ordinary  works  of  Charity  and  Benevolence. 

An  institution  veiled  in  secrecy  with  telegraphic  banners 
and  symbols,  mystical  rites  and  heraldry  of  hieroglyphics, 
founded  in  freedom  and  equality,  coeval  with  the  volume 
of  ages,  and  radiating  in  glory  amid  concentric  circles  of 
firmest  brotherhood,  must  be  a  terror  to  those  who  have 
stolen  their  way  along  to  empire  and  grasped  the  diadem 
distained  with  blood,  and  the  dread  of  those  who  sway  the 
hereditary  sceptre  of  domination,  and  hold  their  high  dis- 
tinction by  no  other  tenure  than  the  mental  gloom  by  which 
they  are  surrounded.  But  the  condition  of  the  unfortunate 
Craftsmen  in  the  north  and  south  of  Europe  is  not  peculiar : 
every  effort  of  the  human  mind — all  noble  sentiment, 
liberal  views  and  generous  feelings,  are  there  alike  pro- 
scribed, or  made  subservient  to  perpetuate  the  arrogance  of 
supremacy  and  power.  All  the  social,  charitable  and 


76  MASONRY     REPUBLICAN. 

moral  virtues,  which  unite  in  "  Brotherly  Love,  Relief  and 
Truth,"  commanding  our  respect  and  esteem,  as  they  enrich 
the  altar  of  incense  "brighten  the  chain  of  friendship," 
and  glow  in  our  devotion,  must  there  of  necessity  act  in 
secret,  lest  their  very  appearance  should  provoke  the  most 
fatal  consequences.  But  thanks  to  the  Supreme  Author  of 
all  our  blessings,  the  gloom  of  darkness  and  superstition  is 
fast  wasting  away  before  the  mighty  sunbeams  of  knowledge 
and  improvement.  "  Wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children," 
her  chosen  ones  are  on  the  alert,  and  constantly,  making  dis- 
coveries in  the  unknown  regions  of  intellect;  erecting 
beacons  and  establishing  barriers,  to  warn  and  protect  the 
passing  stranger  against  those  false  and  delusive  principles, 
which  have  hitherto  been  built  and  net-worked  upon  the 
credulity  of  mankind.  With  the  radiance  of  light,  and  the 
reach  and  compass  of  its  illumination,  these, discoveries  and 
improvements  are  now  spreading  over  the  entire  world. 
Man  begins  to  think  and  act  his  real  character,  comporting 
with  the  dignity  of  his  nature  and  hid  high  destination  : 
disabused  from  the  scholastic  falsity  of  creeds,  and  absurd 
and  gross  impositions  of  power,  he  begins  to  learn  he  has  the 
right  to  control  and  direct  his  own  faculties ;  and  that  all 
distinctions,  not  founded  in  merit,  should  be  little  esteemed, 
lightly  regarded. 

"Knowledge  is  progressive." — Vast  portions  of  the 
habitable  globe  have,  within  the  memory  of  the  present  age, 
enjoyed — some  its  salutary  and  refreshing  influence— some 
its  variegated  and  richest  luxuriance ;  and  new  corrusca- 
tions  of  light  are  daily  and  hourly  bursting  upon  mankind. 


MASONRY     REPUBLICAN.  77 

As  the  principles  of  Freemasonry  embrace  allegiance, 
and  the  Amor  Patrice  (or  love  of  country),  in  the  full  and 
strictest  sense  of  the  terms,  especially  where  there  is  a 
reciprocal  and  due  regard  to  the  rights  and  immunities  of 
the  citizen,  or  subject ;  and  whereas,  the  profession  and 
cultivation  of  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences,  together  with 
works  of  charity,  amity,  integrity  and  good-will  to  all  man- 
kind, constitute  the  basis  and  edifice  of  our  Order — its 
grand  points— -fellowship  ;  its  emblems — moral ;  its  theme 
and  service — devotion  and  philanthropy ,  we  have  a  right 
to  expect  the  commendations  of  the  intelligent  and  humane ; 
and  it  is  a  part  of  the  reward  of  our  labors  to  share  and 
enjoy,  in  common  with  others  associated  for  the  public  good, 
the  honors,  advantages  and  felicities  to  which  they  aspire. 

As  constituting  an  integral  part  of  an  indissoluble  union 
— and  with  its  political  institutions  extending  over  an 
immense  region  of  territory  resuscitated  with  prophetic 
benedictions,  and,  through  an  eventful  revolutionary  his- 
tory, nurtured,  protected  and  honored ;  pursuing  the  same 
national  objects,  and  hi  the  spirit  and  pride  of  republican 
legislation,  with  the  same  honorable  intents  and  perseve- 
rance, acting  in  subserviency  to  the  common  weal, — the 
ambition  of  the  Masonic  family  is  only  to  become  useful 
and  worthy  citizens — with  a  judicious  consideration  of  and 
accommodation  to  the  circumstances  by  which  they  are 
surrounded.  "  Our  duty  to  God,  our  neighbors  and  our- 
selves," requires  neither  more  nor  less  of  us.  We  are 
reminded  that  no  established  law  of  nature  or  society  can  be 
infringed  with  impunity.  Our  recommended  duty — "  pre- 


78  MASONRY      REPUBLICAN. 

cept  upon  precept" — is,  "  fulfil  the  law  of  Love."  "  Be 
kindly  affectionate  one  toward  the  other."  With  sympathy 
and  compassion — "  rejoice  with  those  who  do  rejoice,  and 
weep  with  those  who  weep."  "  Exercise  patience  and  for- 
bearance, with  all  good  fellowship  and  zeal,  in  the  cause  of 
humanity  and  the  .Christian  virtues."  Thus  do  we  delight 
in  the  blessings  of  civilization,  social  improvement,  and  the 
advancement  of  knowledge  and  virtue  and  .equal  rights; 
exulting  when  suffering  nations  break  their  massive  shackles 
upon  the  heads  of  their  oppressors ;  and  when  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Fraternity,  with  those  of  our  national  institu- 
tions and  government,  are  received  and  welcomed,  acknowl- 
edged and  cultivated  in  distant  regions,  "we  triumph  with  a 
laudable  pride  and  exalted  enthusiasm. 

The  auspicious  principles  and  benefits  of  our  institution 
are  rapidly  progressing,  with  the  increase  of  wealth, 
improvements  and  population ;  the  BUIU  of  human  wants 
and  the  miseries  of  human  life  must  necessarily  increase 
in  a  comparative  ratio.  Every  stage  we  advance  in  civil- 
ization— each  step  of  departure,  and  even  fractional,  egress, 
from  a  state  of  barbarism,  ignorance  and  subjugation, 
imposes  upon  us  and  our  cotemporaries  increased  obliga- 
tions to  our  predecessors — to  preserve*,  and  multiply,  and 
perpetuate,  by  the  exercise  and  exertion  of  all  our  talents, 
the  arts,  principles  and  virtues,  essential  to  the  happiness 
of  present  and  future  generations. 


ON     READING     MRS.     REMANS5     POEMS.        79 


OH  ;^8AMSB  MRS 


BY     MISS     M.     J.      E.      KNOX. 


ROUND  every  page  is  a  mellow  light, 

And  a  gem  in  every  line, 
That  sparkles  like  sunbeams  falling  bright 

On  the  wealth  of  a  fairy  mine. 
I  see  the  blue  violets  springing  out 

From  clustering  moss-tufts  green, 
And  hear  the  wild  stream's  ringing  shout, 

Its  shadowed  banks  between. 

The  rose's  breath  is  around  me  shed, 

And  water-lilies  gleam 
In  dewy  light,  from  their  silvery  bed 

In  the  edge  of  the  woodland  stream. 
The  glorious  light  of  Italian  skies 

On  my  rapt  vision  breaks ; 
And  my  soul  is  full  of  such  melodies 

As  night  from  the  wind-harp  shakes. 

Aye,  more!  for  the  breathings  of  harp  and  lute 

Come  over  me  like  a  spell, 
And  the  dreamy  sound  of  the  shepherd's  flute, 

With  its  rich  melodious  «well. 


80        ON     RE  ADING 


I  see  the  forms  of  the  glorious  dead, — 

Each  beautiful  buried  brow, 
With  soft  hair  wreathing  in  curl  or  braid, 

Is  smiling  upon  me  now. 

And  souls  which  have  burned  with  passionate  thought, 

And  yearnings  for  other  spheres, 
Whose  memories  are,  as  with  gems  inwrought, 

Undimmed  by  the  mist  of  years ; 
They  greet  my  soul  in  those  blissful  hours, 

In  which  I  am  borne  away 
By  thrilling  song,  to  the  land  of  flowers, 

Where  the  fountains  of  feeling  play  : 

A  dreamland  formed  in  the  Poet's  brain, 

And  peopled  with  glorious  things, 
Where  music  floats  in  delicious  strain, 

From  the  cweet  song-angel's  wings ! 
Oh  !  fountain  of  rich  poetic  lore, 

How  gladly  I  drink  from  thee ! — 
But  shall  my  songs,  when  I  am  no 

So  dear  to  one  spirit  be  I 


MOSES      AT     THE      BURNING      BUSH.  81 


M0333  £2  233  HAVHTffi 

BY      F.     J.      OTTERSON. 

'TWAS  summer-time  in  Midian, 

Three  thousand  years  ago, 
The  sunbeams,  falling  vertical, 

Like  molten  fire  did  flow — 
On  Horeb's  angel-trodden  hill, 

On  Arab's  arid  plain, 
In  every  dell  the  fire-flood  fell, 

As  falls  a  summer  rain. 

Close  at  the  holy  mountain's  foot 

A  clustering  forest  stood, 
As  if  the  trees  instructive  sought 

The  dwelling-place  of  God  ; 
With  leafy  arms  intwined,  they  made 

A  sun -proof  arch  of  green, 
And  gently  play'd  within  the  shade 

A  thousand  forms  unseen. 

'Twas  sultry  noon, — all  silently 

Beneath  the  cool  trees  sleeping, 
An  Israelitish  shepherd  lay, 

While,  round  about  him  creeping, 
The  fleecy  herd  came  carefully, 

And,  bowing  down  before  him, 
Gazed  tearfully  and  prayerfully, 

As  if  they  would  adore  him. 


82      MOSES  AT  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

Look  !  on  the  mountain-top  descended, 

A  gorgeous  cloud  of  fulgent  Glory 
Hath  with  the  sun  its  radiance  blended, 

And  made  his  beams  look  pale  and  hoary  ; 
Look  !  down  the  mountain  grandly  going, 

The  bright  effulgence  passes  sldwly, 
And  in  its  viewless  brilliance  glowing, 

Stops  noar  the  shepherd  slumbering  lowly. 

The  shepherd  woke,  and  wildly  gazing, 

Half-blinded  by  the  bright  illuming, 
Saw  where  the  bush  was  fiercely  blazing, 

Vet  perfect  still,  and  unconsuming; 
And  while  he  marvell'd  at  the  wonder, 

He  heard  a  voice  his  own  name  telling, — 
An  awful  voice,  like  far-off  thunder, 

Among  the  distant  mountains  swelling 

It  was  the  voice  that  call'd  to  being 

A  universe  at  its  command, 
And  Darkness,  from  His  presence  fleeing, 

Disclosed  the  water  and  the  land  ; 
It  was  the  voice  that,  in  the  garden, 

Call'd  gently  for  the  sinning  mortals, 
The  voice  that  bade  the  flaming  warden 

For  ever  guard  the  shining  portals. 

The  voice  that  broke  the  great  deep's  fountains. 

And  oped  the  windows  of  the  heavens, 
That  made  the  flood  o'ertop  the  mountains, 

And  whelm  a  world  to  ruin  given  ; 
That  bade  the  bow,  the  east  adorning, 

Tell  vengeance  fast  and  mercy  reigning — 
That  sent  the  dove,  with  peaceful  warning, 

To  cheer  the  eight  well-nigh  complaining. 


MOSES  AT  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

The  flaming  bush,  the  quaking  ground, 

The  leprous  hand,  the  hand  restored, 
The  serpent-rod  no  serpent  found, 

Proclaim'd  the  presence  of  the  Lord ; 
And  when  the  doubting  shepherd  spoke, 

And  humbly  ask'd  the  Glory's  name, 
in  thunder  from  the  Presence  broke — 

"  Tell  them  thou  comest  from  I  AM  !" 

Then  waned  the  Glory,  wasting  slow, 

As  if  exhaling  on  the  air, 
Expiring  with  a  gentler  flow 

Than  soul  departing  while  in  prayer, 
Till  nought  the  vision  could  reveal, 

Save  mountain,  forest,  herd  and  ground 
Though  still  the  subtler  soul  could  feel 

The  atmosphere  of  heaven  around ; 

And  viewless  angels,  thronging  near. 

Made  coolness  with  their  waving  wings, 
While  oft  upon  the  shepherd's  ear 

The  cadence  of  their  music  rings — 
And  oftener  still — now  near,  now  far — 

A  great  vibration  broke  the  calm, 
As,  echoing  from  star  to  star, 

Went  »ound  the  awful  name,  "  I  AM  !" 


A     DAY     O7     LOVE 


A   SAT    0'    1DT3 

BT      JOHN      BOTLE. 

BY  Hudson's  stream,  I  min'  it  weel, 

Wi'  spirits  light  and  cantie, 
I  trod  a  wood  •embosomed  dell, 

And  oh  !  but  I  was  vauntie  ! 
It  was  a  flower-bespangled  bawk 

O'erhung  wi'  coppice  braery  : — 
For  wi'  me  in  that  am'rous  walk 

Was  linked  my  bonnie  Mary. 

The  simmer  sun  was  glintin*  doun 

Through  trees  wi'  foliage  laden, 
Prae  which  I  poud  a  leafy  crown 

To  deck  my  winsome  maiden ; 
Aboon  her  snaw-white  polished  bron 

I  wreathed  mony  a  blossom, 
Ah  !  nane  but  lovers  can  tell  how 

It  thrilleM  a'  my  bosom. 

A  zone  o'  woodbine  roun  her  waist. 

Alang  the  swaird  she  stept  her, 
An'  in  her  tiny  hand  I  placed 

An  osier  for  a  sceptre  ; 
Wi'  silken  robe,  and  spangled  shoon. 

She  trippit  like  a  fairy  ! 
Ah  but  it  was  a  bonnie  moon, 

That  hallowed  moon  o'  Mary  ! 


DAY     O7      LOVE. 


We  traced  the  neuks,  and  wimplin'  brooks, 

In  hermit-haunted  places, 
An'  never  has  that  valley  seen 

Twa  mair  contented  faces  ; 
We  framed  a  tale  for  every  vale, 

For  every  hill,  a  palace, 
The  tiny  shells  were  fairy  bells, 

Each  buttercup,  a  chalice. 

4 

A  brawlin'  rill  cam  doun  the  hill, 

Gem-decked  and  silver-crested, 
Whiles  shadowed  frae  the  noontide  ray, 

An'  on  its  bank  we  rested  ; 
An'  there  she  sang,  the  shades  amang, 

A  lay  frae  Alice  Carey  ! — 
Not  Coila's  sel  could  sing  sae  well 

As  thee,  my  peerless  Mary. 

v 

Sae  passed  away  the  lee-lang  day, 

The  e'en,  the  hour  o'  gloamin', 
The  sun  gaed  down,  the  bright  May  moon 

Looked  in,  and  found  us  roamin', 
An'  by  her  light  that  hallowed  night 

W«  pledged  the  word  and  token 
(X  mutual  faith  which,  unto  death, 

By  both  remained  unbroken  ! 

,- 
Unbroken,— but,  0  God,  the  rest! — 

Like  streams  through  meadows  flowing, 
While  sunbeams  dance  alang  their  breast, 

Dank  weeds  beneath  are  growing — 
Sae  shadowed  our  smooth  stream  o'  life, 

Frae  beams  our  hopes  had  wreathed. 
So  sprang  beneath  the  hand  o'  death, 

An'  Mary  sank  beneath  it ! 


86  LINES. 


The  snaw-wreath  lies  ower  vale  and  hill. 

An*  claithes  the  birk  and  breckan, 
The  wintry  wind  blaws  cauld  and  shrill, 

An*  dark  the  clouds  are  fleckan, 
An*  I,  by  grief  an'  care  opprest, 

A  pilgrim  on  life's  prairie — 
An*  ah !  I  lang  to  be  at  rest 

Wi*  thee,  my  peerless  Mary  ! 


XIV38. 

•  T     A     TOUNO     LADY     BORN     BLIND 

IT  this  delicious,  graceful  flower. 
Which  blows  but  for  a  single  hour, 
Should  to  the  sight  as  lovely  be, 
As  from  its  fragrance  seems  to  me, 
A  sigh  must  then  its  color  show, 
For  that's  the  softest  joy  I  know 
And  sure  the  rose  is  like  a  sigh, 
Born  just  to  sooth,  and  then — to  die. 

My  father,  when  our  fortune  smiled, 
With  jewels  deck'd  his  eyeless  child ; 
Their  glittering  worth  the  world  might  see, 
But,  ah  !  they  had  no  charms  for  me. 
Still  as  the  present  faiFd  to  charm, 
A  trickling  tear  bedewed  my  arm ; 
And  sure  the  gem  to  me  most  dear 
Was  a  kind  father's  pitying  tear. 


JANEWILLSON.  87 


A    SKETCH. 

BY      ALMANZOR. 

"  I  PKAY  you  let  me  pass — my  sick  grandmother  is  wait- 
ing for  my  return,"  timidly,  and  in  trembling  tones,  spoke  a 
young  girl,  at  the  corner  of  one  of  the  streets,  on  a  cold, 
dark,  and  stormy  evening  in  December.  "  Do,  kind  sirs, 
let  mo  go  !"  continued  the  young  girl,  and  she  grasped  with 
a  tighter  hold  a  scarlet-woollen  shawl,  which  she  wore, 
more  closely'  around  her  shoulders. — "  For  the  love  of 
mercy  I  must  not  be  stopped !"  she  ejaculated  in  a  still 
louder  voice,  the  pitiable  tones 'of  which  struck  upon  tin- 
ears  of  George  Alden,  as,  with  head  bent  forward  and  face 
half  buried  in  the  fur  collar  of  his  cloak,  he  was  coming  up 
the  dark  street,  on  the  corner  of  which  the  entreating  voice 
was  heard. 

As  the  tones  of  entreaty  were  heard,  Alden  quickened 
his  step,  and  in  an  instant  was  at  the  corner.  As  he  came 
up,  the  light,  airy  form  of  a  girl  rushed  past  him  ;  and  by 
tho  light  of  one  solitary  lamp  that  stood  there,  he  saw  two 
men  start  off  in  another  direction,  and  heard  one  of  them 
muttering  curses  as  he  ran.  Ever  alive  to  the  voice  of 
distress,  George  turned,  determined  to  follow  the  unpro- 


JAN  E     WILLSON. 


tected  girl  to  her  place  of  destination.  He  could  just  see 
a  glimpse  of  her  as  she  rapidly  flew  along  the  wet  and 
slippery  pavement,  and  he  quickened  his  walk,  keeping 
some  distance  behind  her.  Suddenly  the  sound  of  her  foot- 
steps ceased,  and  a  light  for  an  instant  flashed  from  an 
under-ground  room,  then  all  was  dark  and  still.  He,  how- 
ever, continued  his  walk  to  the  spot  where  the  light  had 
flashed  out,  and  from  a  small  window  by  a  door,  which  shed 
a  faint  light,  he  could  just  discover  a  few  steps  that  led 
into  the  basement  story  of  an  old  building,  and  judging  that 
the  poor  girl  was  one  of  its  inmates,  and  that  she  was  now 
in  safety,  he  felt  that  his  object  was  accomplished,  and 
turned  to  leave  the  spot,  when  suddenly  the  door  slowly 
swung  back,  and  an  elderly  lady  with  an  old  quilted  hood 
on  her  head,  and  the  same  red  shawl  around  her  which  had 
covered  the  shoulders  of  the  girl,  stood  in  the  passage.  By 
the  light,  Alden  could  partly  see  her  countenance,  which 
was  sallow  and  thin.  Close  by  her,  half  bending  over  and 
looking  up  towards  the  woman,  stood  the  young  girl,  holding 
in  her  hand  an  iron  candlestick,  with  a  piece  of  candle  about 
two  inches  in  length,  flaring  from  the  current  of  air  which 
rushed  past  the  open  door ;  and  he  heard,  in  a  soft  musical 
voice,  "  Mother,  do  let  me  go !  perhaps  they  have  gone, 
and  I  shall  not  again  be  molested."  He  could  only  catch 
an  indistinct  view  of  the  face  of  the  speaker,  but  he  thought 
it  more  than  ordinarily  handsome. 

"  No,  my  dear  daughter,  stay  with  your  grandmother  ;  I 
shall  be  less  likely  to  be  beset  by  ruffians,  and  insulted, 
than  a  young  girl :  I  cannot  consent  for  you  to  be  exposed 


JANEWILLSON.  89 

again  to-night,"  answered  the  woman,  moving  to  ascend  the 
short  flight  of  steps  that  reached  a  level  with  the  pavement. 

George,  not  wishing  to  be  discovered,  commenced  step- 
ping along,  passing  the  door.  He  heard  again  the  voice  of 
the  girl  almost  in  a  whisper  saying,  "  Stop  a  moment,  mo- 
ther, there  is  some  one  passing."  He  moved  on,  half 
turning  his  head  to  look  back  to  see  which  way  the  woman 
was  going ;  as  soon  as  he  had  passed,  she  ascended  the 
steps  and  went  up  the  street,  the  door  again  being  shut. 
Waiting  a  moment,  he  turned  and  followed  after  her, 
determining  to  secretly  keep  watch  over  her,  and  be  near 
at  hand  should  any  one  molest  her. 

He  kept  her  in  sight  for  some  time,  until  finally  sho 
stopped  at  a  shop,  and  went  in,  which,  as  he  came  up,  he 
discovered  was  a  baker's.  As  he  came  in  front  of  the 
door,  the  upper  part  of  which  had  a  window  in  it,  he  dis- 
covered the  woman  standing  by  the  counter  with  a  couple 
of  loaves  of  bread  lying  in  front  of  her,  and  she  appeared 
vainly  searching,  alternately  in  a  little  calico  bag  and  then 
in  a  small  basket,  for  something.  George  paused  only  for 
a  moment,  and  opening  the  door  walked  into  the  shop. 

The  woman  ceased  her  search,  and  moved  as  if  to  make 
room  for  the  supposed  new  customer.  A  short,  thick,  red- 
faced  man  stood  inside  the  counter,  with  his  open  hand 
resting  on  it,  seemingly  waiting  to  receive  his  pay  for  the 
bread,  and  as  George  came  up,  the  baker  looked  sternly  at 
me  woman,  saying  "  It  is  just  as  I  supposed — you  have  no 
money  !  You  can  have  no  more  of  my  bread  until  the  old 
score  is  paid  up  1" 


90  JANEWILLSON. 

The  poor  woman  looked  as  though  she  would  sink 
through  the  floor,  and  a  deep-drawn  sigh  escaped  her  as, 
tremblingly,  she  said,  a  I  thought  I  had  one  shilling ;  but  I 
cannot  find  it.  I  suppose  I  must  have  lost  it  on  my  way," 
and  she  commenced  searching  anew  the  little  bag  she  had 
with  her. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  go  back  and  look  for  ij^  sneer- 
ingly  said  the  man,  taking  the  loaves  off  the  counter,  and 
laying  them  on  a  shelf  where  numerous  others  were  tailed  up. 

Alden  knit  his  brows  at  this  sight.  "  Give  thelbread  to 
the  woman  !"  said  he.  "  I  will  pay  for  it."  / 

"  Certahiy,  sir,  certainly  !"  quickly  answered  the  shop- 
man ;  "  she  spoke  for  some  soda-crackers  also — shall  she 
take  them  likewise  ?"  continued  he,  handina  back  the  bread, 
and  bowing  to  George. 

"  If  she  wishes  anything  in  your  shop,  let  her  have  it !" 
abruptly  replied  Alden,  and  turning  to  the  woman,  "  Mad-  ^ 
am,"  said  he,  "  permit  me  to  be  an  almoner  'to  you  to- 
night,— nay,  nay!  no  refusal,"  observing  that  she  was 
about  to  decline,  "  I  have  a  right  to  give  bread  to  the 
hungry !"  he  added,  smiling. 

"And  God  bless  you  for  it!"  ejaculated  the  woman,/ 
casting  on  him  a  look  of  gratitude,  while  tears  involuntarily 
gushed  from  her  sunken  eyes.  * 

"  You  wished  some  crackers  also,  did  you  ^ot,  good 
woman?"  feelingly  asked  George.  "Let  her  have  the 
quantity  she  wishes,"  confirmed  he,  addressing  the  man. 

"  I  did  wish  to  get  a  pound  of  soda-crackers  for  a 
sick  person ;  but  as  I  cannot  pay  for,  I  nrnst  ot  take 


.TANEWILLSON.  91 

them.  I  have  already  trespassed  on  your  charity  too 
much." 

George  made  no  reply.  "  Put  up  the  crackers  for  the 
woman !"  said  he,  looking  at  the  shop-man.  "  Did  she 
inquire  for  anything  else  ?" 

"  No,  sir;  but  when  she  has  money,  she  often  gets  a  cus- 
tard for  iier  sick  mother,"  answered  the  baker.  u  We 
have  some  fresh  ones  that  are  very  nice." 

"  Have  you  a  sick  mother,  madam  ?"  tenderly  asked 
George,  turning  again  to  the  woman ;  "  and  will  a  custard 
add  to  her  comfort  ?  Indeed  you  will  take  a  few,  I  hope," 
rather  imploringly  he  added,  "  baker,  put  the  Voman  up 
two  or  three  custards." 

"  Stop,  sir,  stop !  I  entreat  of  you.  Your  bounty  over- 
whelms me  !"  exclaimed  the  woman ;  "  I  have  now  sufficient 
for  my  mother's  comfort  and  our  present  wants  until  after 
.the  Sabbath." 

The  baker,  however,  took  no  heed  to  what  she  said ;  but 
proceeded  to  put  three  custards  into  the  woman's  basket, 
which  she  reluctantly  received,  and  seizing  young  Alden's 
hand  she  thanked  him,  and,  nearly  overcome  by  her  feel- 
ings, while  her  eyes  beamed  with  joy  through  the  tears  that 
fast  trickled  down  her  cheeks,  she  hastily  left  the  shop. 

Alden  staid  but  a  moment  after,  to  pay  for  what  had 
been  taken  by  the  woman,  and  then  throwing  a  dollar  on 
the  counter  to  cancel  her  debt  formerly  contracted,  bade 
the  baker  supply  her  with  more  bread  should  she  call 
again,  and  followed  on  after  the  object  of  his  charity,  for 
the  purpojse  of  seeing  her  safe  return  home. 


82  JANEWILLSON. 

On  leaving  the  shop,  the  woman  ran  rapidly  homeward ; 
and  it  was  with  difficulty  he  could  keep  her  in  sight ;  but 
she  reached  her  home  unmolested,  and  he  saw  her  enter 
the  lowly  place  of  residence,  when  he  turned  and  wended 
his  way  to  his  own  lodgings. 

Few  there  are,  comparatively  speaking,  who  know  the 
untold  pleasure  which  is  felt  in  a  generous  bosom,  springing 
from  a  heart  conscious  of  performing  a  deed  of  unostenta- 
tious charity  in  relieving  the  distressed ;  and  true  it  is,  that 
many  who  enjoy  competency,  and  are  liberal  in  dispensing 
favors  for  great  specific  objects  of  charity  for  a  name  only, 
never  stoop  to  relieve  the  poor  widow  and  fatherless,  or  the 
sick  and  distressed  whom  the  iron  hand  of  penury  has  with 
a  heavy  hand  laid  low. 

George  Alden  laid  his  head  on  his  pillow  that  night  with 
a  conscious  feeling  of  having  acted  as  he  would  others  should 
act  to  himself  in  like  circumstances.  Left  with  a  few 
thousand  dollars  by  his  father,  George  lived  with  his  mother 
and  sister,  the  latter  about  eighteen  years  old.  This 
Bister,  whose  name  was  Alice,  was  the  idol  of  George,  was 
his  confidant  in  all  his  movements,  and  he  had  made  her  his 
almoner  in  dispensing  acts  of  charity,  the  objects  of  which, 
often,  he  sought  out.  He  was  a  clerk  in  one  of  the  banks, 
and  received  for  his  services  sufficient,  with  the  income 
from  the  property  left  by  his  lamented  parent,  to  support 
his  mother,  sister,  and  himself. 

The  next  day,  George  communicated  the  circumstances 
of  the  preceding  evening,  naming  the  street,  and  describing 
the  place  of  residence  of  the  recipient  of  his  charity. 


JANE      WILLSON. 


Alice  Alden  needed  no  other  stimulant  to  visit  the  abodes 
of  poverty  and  wretchedness  than  the  approving  smile  of 
her  brother  to  sanction  such  acts.  The  poor  woman  whom 
George  had  mentioned  to  her  was  fresh  in  her  mind  on 
Monday  morning  when  she  arose,  and  she  determined  that 
day  to  seek  the  place  of  her  residence.  Circumstances  in 
the  fore  part  of  the  day  prevented  her  from  going  out ;  but 
towards  night,  in  the  afternoon,  she  went.  After  thridding 
several  streets,  she  came  to  the  corner  of  the  one  sought, 
and  proceeded  with  a  light  heart,  carefully  noticing  the 
buildings  as  she  passed  along,  to  find  the  one  described  by 
George.  It  was  a  street  occupied  by  dwelling-houses 
mostly,  and  there  was  such  a  sameness  in  the  appearance 
of  them,  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  her  to  have 
found  the  right  one,  had  not  a  little  circumstance  occurred, 
that  led  her,  as  it  were  intuitively,  to  the  very  spot.  As 
she  passed  along,  she  saw  a  man  a  few  rods  ahead  ascend 
from  the  basement  of  one  of  the  buildings  and  come  towards 
her.  As  he  passed  her,  he  was  muttering  to  himself  some- 
thing, and  she  distinguished  in  one  of  his  sentences,  "  I'll 
let  them  bury  the  old  woman,  and  then  they  must  budge, 
or  consent  to  my  proposition.  I  must  and  will  have  my 
rent  somehow."  She  heard  this  much  of  what  the  man 
was  saying  to  himself  as  he  passed  her,  and  judging  that 
the  place  he  had  left  was  the  abode  of  poverty  and  affliction, 
she  had  no  hesitation  in  concluding  it  was  the  place  she 
sought,  or  at  least  that  there  were  those  there  who  were  in 
need  of  assistance.  Accordingly  she  proceeded  to  the  cel- 
lar-way she  had  seen  the  man  emerge  from,  and  tapped  at 


JANE     WILLSON. 


the  door.  A  moment  elapsed  and  it  was  opened,  when  a 
tall,  slender  woman,  the  picture  of  melancholy,  stood  before 
her.  She  bowed,  and  faintly  smiled,  as  Alice  spoke  and 
passed  in ;  and  shutting  the  door,  she  handed  her  one  of 
three  chairs,  which  had  once  had  seats  of  flags,  but  were 
now  bottomed  with  "  list"  of  variegated  colors ;  and  the 
frames,  at  some  period  painted,  perhaps  some  fancy  color, 
were  at  this  time  worn  off,  and  presented  a  white  appear- 
ance like  the  original  color  of  the  wood. 

Alice  cast  her  eyes  around  the  room  as  she  seated  her- 
self. 

"  I  called,  not  to  intrude,  my  good  woman,"  said  she,  in 
a  tender  voice,  "  but  was  informed  that  some  one  was  sick 
here  that  possibly  might  need  assistance." 

Here  she  paused,  as  her  eyes  were  directed  to  one  corner 
of  the  room,  where  on  a  common  bedstead  some  one  lay, 
covered  up  and  still,  as  if  asleep.  The  room  was  clean,  and 
smelt  of  camphor  and  burnt  vinegar.  A  handful  of  coals 
were  burning  in  the  grate,  emitting  scarce  heat  enough  to 
take  the  chill  from  the  room.  The  furniture  was  scanty 
enough,  consisting,  aside  from  the  three  chairs,  of  only  a 
pine  table,  clean  and  white  from  constant  scouring,  an  old 
ihest  of  the  same  kind  of  wood,  the  outside  presenting 
the  same  cleanly  appearance.  In  one  corner  was  a  cup- 
board with  a  black  earthen  tea-pot,  two  or  three  white  cups 
and  saucers,  and  three  or  four  plates.  One  iron  candle- 
stick stood  upon  the  mantel-piece,  and  »vith  two  or  three 
other  trifling  articles,  these  constituted  the  whole  household 
goods  of  the  room,  which  was  low  and  lighted  only  by  two 


JANEWILLSON  95 

basement  windows — a  large  newspaper  serving  as  a  curtain 
for  one  of  them. 

"  My  mother  has  been  sick — but  is  now  relieved.  God, 
in  mercy,  has  just  taken  her,"  huskily  replied  the  woman, 
burying  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobbing  as  if  her  heart 
would  break.  Removing  her  hands,  she  in  a  moment  point- 
ed to  the  bed,  saying,  "  There  she  lays — her  soul  at  rest — 
my  dear  mother !" 

A  thrill  of  horror  and  a  shuddei  passed  through  the 
frame  of  Alice,  as  she  arose  and  moved  to  the  bed.  The 
old  lady,  who  but  an  hour  before  had  breathed  her  last,  lay 
as  if  in  a  sweet  sleep,  and  Alice  removed  the  dark-colored 
coverlet  that  was  over  her,  and  silently  gazed  on  the  lifeless 
corpse.  The  poor  woman,  the  daughter  of  her  who  thus  lay 
in  the  arms  of  death,  now  rose  and  came  also  to  the  bedside. 
"  Happy  mother !"  she  exclaimed,  "  would  that  my  troubles 

were  ended  like  thine  !  but "  and  she  suddenly  stopped 

short  a  moment — "  O,  this  wicked  murmuring! — pard<»n 
me,  my  Heavenly  Father !" 

Alice,  sensibly  affected  with  the  affliction  of  the  poor 
woman,  withdrew  her  tear-brimmed  eyes  from  the  cold  mor- 
tality she  had  been  gazing  on,  and  turning  them  on  the 
woman,  tenderly  and  soothingly  attempted  to  comfort  her 
in  her  affliction  by  consoling  and  sympathizing  language. 
While  thus  engaged,  the  door  softly  opened,  and  a  young 
girl  with  a  noiseless  step  entered  the  room.  She  timidly 
shrunk  back  as  she  saw  a ,  stranger  conversing  with  her 
mother ;  and  Alice  started  with  surprise  as  she  looked  at 
the  graceful  form  of  the  young  and  beautiful  girl,  who,  with 


JANE     WILLSON. 


parting  lips  just  ready  to  speak,  stood  looking  alternately  at 
*her  and  then  at  her  mother.  She  was  dressed  in  a  dark 
calico  frock,  which  fitted  her  exquisitely-shaped  person  to 
admiration,  and  a  scarlet-woollen  shawl  hung  lightly  over 
her  shoulders.  On  her  head  she  had  a  faded-blue  silk, 
quilted,  open  bonnet,  lined  with  a  pink  color  of  the  same 
kind  of  goods.  Har  hair,  in  glossy  natural  ringlets,  hung 
in  clusters  down  her  neck,  and  a  profusion  of  dark  curls 
partly  concealed  her  high  and  polished  forehead,  with  one 
or  two  negligently  hanging  down  on  her  roseate-tinged 
cheeks.  Alice  thought  she  had  never  seen  a  more  beauti- 
ful creature. 

"  I  feel  for  your  loss,  my  lovely  girl ;  but  trust  your 
grandma  is  now  in  heaven !"  said  Alice,  in  an  affectionate 
voice. 

"  And  is  she  gone  !"  cried  the  girl,  looking  aghast ;  and 
instantly  rushing  to  the  bed,  she  clasped  the  inanimate 
remains  in  her  arms,  and  wept  in  all  the  agony  of  a  bereaved 
heart. 

Alice  waited  until  the  first  burst  of  the  overwhelming 
grief  of  poor  Jane  had  passed  ;  and  then,  after  some  con- 
versation with  Mrs.  Willson  (the  mother),  ventured,  in  a 
delicate  way,  to  ask  what  she  intended  to  do  in  respect  to 
the  performance  of  the  obsequies  of  the  deceased. 

Mrs.  Willson  burst  into  tears,  completely  overcome  with 
her  feelings.  The  contending  emotions  caused  by  her 
wretched  circumstances — she  being  entirely  penniless  and 
worn  down  with  constant  fatigue  of  watching  the  sick 
bed  of  her  mother  for  a  series  of  weeks,  during  which  time 


JANE      WILLSON.  97 

she  had  been  unable  to  earn  anything — completely  overcame 
her.  Their  whole  support  had  been  derived  from  the 
scanty  earnings  of  Jane,  who  labored  in  an  extensive  tobacco 
factory,  and  that  was  scarce  sufficient  to  buy  provisions  for 
them,  without  the  absolute  necessaries  required  for  the  sick 
grandmother.  She  owed  for  rent,  and  also  was  indebted 
to  the  apothecary,  physician,  and  grocer.  Her  situation, 
therefore,  as  it  rushed  on  her  mind,  rendered  her  almost 
speechless  at  the  question  put  her  by  Alice. 

"  I  know  not,"  at  length  articulated  Mrs.  Willson ;  and 
in  broken  language,  and  with  a  convulsed  frame,  she  laid 
open  her  wants  to  the  tender-hearted  Alice. 

Alice  Alden  keenly  felt  the  wretched  position  *  in  which 
Mrs.  Willson  was  plunged,  and  rising,  she  embraced  the 
mother  and  daughter,  then  slipping  her  purse  into  the  hand 
of  the  former,  said  she  would  send  some  one  to  assist  and 
do  what  was  necessary  on  the  occasion ;  and  promising 
to  come  again  the  next  day,  she  started  to  return  home. 
Ere  she  reached  home,  however,  she  accidentally  met  her 
brother,  and  hastily  communicated  to  him  the  scene  she  had 
witnessed. 

George  lost  no  time  in  complying  with  his  sister's  request, 
in  sending  proper  persons  to  perform  the  offices  to  the. 
dead,  and  to  relieve  Mrs.  Willson  in  her  hour  of  trouble, 
until  the  last  sad  tribute  was  paid  to  the  remains  of  her 
deceased  mother. 

It  would  be  needless  here  to  record  that  everything  was 
done  which  benevolence  and  philanthropy  required,  in  the 
performance  of  the  funeral  obsequies,  which  were  attended 


98  JANEWILLSON. 

by  Alice,  who  strove  to  her  uttermost  to  sooth  the  over- 
whelmed  mother  and  daughter.  The  duties  of  George 
Alden,  in  attending  to  his  vocation,  prevented  him  from 
personally  acting  in  any  of  the  transactions  ;  but  his  purse 
had  freely  supplied  and  paid  the  necessary  expenses. 

It  was  with  a  heavy  heart,  the  morning  after  the  funeral 
of  her  grandmother,  that  Jane  Willson  left  the  cheeerless 
room  her  mother  occupied,  to  again  continue  her  labor.  The 
recent  scene  she  had  passed  through  had  impressed  a  melan- 
choly on  her  beautiful  countenance,  and  the  thoughts  of  her 
mother  and  their  extreme  poverty  pained  her  gentle  heart. 
Though  the  manner  in  which  they  had  subsisted  had  inured 
her  to  privation  and  self-denial,  that  all  of  them  might  con- 
tinue their  existence  without  actually  becoming  objects  of 
public  charity,  yet  the  small  pittance  she  earned  had  been 
insufficient  to  more  than  feed  them,  penury  had  increased 
upon  them,  and  now  the  future  looked  darker  to  her  than 
ever. 

Not  so  with  Mrs.  Willson.  The  recent  friends,  which  it 
seemed  as  if  Heaven  had  oppoitunely  raised  up  within  the 
few  last  days,  though  it  humbled  her  from  a  sense  of  obliga- 
tion, yet  had  inspired  renewed  energy  to  her  feelings ;  and 
though  she  meekly  bowed  to  all  the  trying  circumstances 
that  had  surrounded  them,  she  still  looked  forward  to  better 
days.  Mrs.  Willson  had  not  always  been  so  poor.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  a  seafaring  man,  who  died  when  she 
was  young,  leaving  her  mother  and  herself  in  rather  strait- 
ened circumstances  ;  but  the  energy  of  her  surviving  parent 
enabled  her  to  support  them  comfortably  until  she  was 


JANEWILLSON.  99 

grown  up ;  at  which  time  a  smart  young  man,  named 
Willson,  a  boatswain's  mate  in  the  navy,  paid  attention  to 
her,  and  they  were  married.  As  his  wife  she  lived  with  him 
for  a  number  of  years,  Ja'ne  being  the  only  fruit  of  their 
union.  Mrs.  Willson,  however,  was  destined  like  her 
mother  to  become  a  widow,  which  event  happened  when 
Jane  was  about  thirteen  years  of  age.  From  that  period,  a 
series  of  little  reverses  in  their  affairs  took  place,  and  with 
her  aged  mother  on  her  hands,  she  had  become  so  reduced 
as  to  part  with  everything  valuable,  and  to  reside  in  the 
cheapest  tenements — barely  living  from  hand  to  mouth.  In 
addition,  her  mother  being  taken  sick  with  a  lingering  ill- 
ness, she  was  compelled  to  let  Jane  enter  a  tobacco  factory, 
where  she  had  to  work  each  day,  with  many  other  girls,  ten 
or  twelve  hours  in  the  summer,  and  in  the  winter  evenings 
until  eight  o'clock. 

******** 

It  was  on  the  Saturday  evening  mentioned  at  the  com- 
mencent  of  our  tale,  that  Jane  Willson  returned  home  from 
her  work.  Her  grandmother  was  in  the  last  stages  of  her 
disease,  and  her  mother  fatigued  and  worn  out  with  constant 
watching  and  anxiety.  Jane  had  numerous  little  errands  to 
perform,  and  the  evening  was  wet,  cold  and  stormy ;  yet 
she  had  performed  them  all  but  one,  and  that  was  to  get  a 
small  supply  of  bread.  One  shilling  alone  remained  of  her 
week's  earnings,  and  with  that  she  again  sallied  out  to  pro- 
cure two  loaves.  As  she  reached  the  end  of  the  street 
which  led  into  another  containing  the  bake-shop,  she  saw 
two  tough-looking  men  standing  on  the  corner,  and  as  she 


100  JANRWILLSON. 

attempted  to  pass,  one  of  them  seized  hold  of  her,  saying  to 
the  other,  with  an  oath,  "  By  heavens,  Bill !  here  is  the 
pivtty  tobacco-girl!" 

Jane,  trembling  and  affrighted,  in  the  grasp  of  the  ruffian 
brute,  tried  to  disengage  herself  from  his  hold;  but  he 
rudely  drew  her  towards  the  lamp-post,  swearing  he  would 
have  one  look  at  her  pretty  face.  It  was  at  this  moment 
that  the  entreating  tones  of  her  voice  reached  the  ears  of 
George  Alden,  who  arrived  in  time  to  frighten  the  men  from 
their  intentions;  for  the  one  that  held  her  let  go  his  hold 
instantly,  and  she  rushed  past  George,  as  has  been  men- 
tioned. 

»*«***** 

Two  days  after  the  funeral  had  elapsed,  and  Alice  had 
not  visited  Mrs.  Willson.  George  had  promised  to  accom- 
pany her  to  the  humble  residence  in  the  after  part  of  Jlie 
day ;  and  she  was  sitting,  with  her  bonnet  and  cloak  on, 
waiting  for  him  to  come  in.  He  came  not,  however,  and 
after  staying  for  some  time  for  his  arrival,  she  started  off 
alone.  As  she  reached  the  door  of  Mrs.  Willson's  resi- 
dence, she  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  talking  in  a  loud  strain, 
and  she  hesitated  a  moment  about  going  in ;  but  the  recol- 
lection of  the  muttered  sentences  of  the  man  who  passed 
her,  and  who  at  that  time  came  from  Mrs.  Willson's  when 
she  was  seeking  the  place  of  her  residence,  crossed  her 
mind,  and  she  tapped  at  the  door  for  admittance. 

Mrs.  Willson  came  and  Opened  it,  almost  screaming  with 
joy  at  seeing  her,  and  she  passed  in,  helping  herself  to  a 
chair.  The  same  neat  and  clean  appearance  that  was  seen 


JANE  ,-  ViT  I>L  L  S  O»IC'«  ';,",»: •, 


101 


before  in  the  room  was  still  observable.  By  the  grate  sat  a 
well-dressed,  hard-featured  man,  with  his  hat  on,  his  legs 
crossed  and  his  arms  folded  up,  who,  as  she  entered  and  took 
a  seat,  stared  her  in  the  face,  and  though  she  did  not  par- 
ticularly notice  the  man  who  passed  her  a  few  days  before, 
she  thought  this  was  the  same  one.  He  sat  a  few  moments 
in  moody  silence,  and  then  rose  to  go,  saying  to  Mrs. 
Willson,  "  You  will  think  of  that  thing,  madam !  one  or 
the  other  must  be  done.  Remember,  I  am  not  to  be  trifled 
with !"  and  moving  towards  the  door,  he  added,  "  I  will 
call  again  this  evening." 

Mrs.  Willson  turned  pale  as  the  man  spoke,  and  her  eyes 
seemed  to  light  up  with  a  flash  of  indignation,  as  in  a  linn 
and  energetic  voice  she  looked  towards  him  and  said,  "  You 
have  already  had  your  answer,  sir !  Sooner  would  I  die 
by  inches  in  the  deepest  dungeon  which  unfeeling  tyranny 
could  prepare,  than  listen  for  one  instant  further  to  your 
proposal !  Oh  !  my  God !"  she  exclaimed,  "  and  is  it  come 
to  this  ?"  and  dropping  into  a  chair  she  covered  her  face 
with  both  hands,  while  the  contending  emotions  of  grief  and 
indignation  warred  in  her  bosom,  and  agitated  her  slender 
frame. 

The  man  made  no  reply;  but  looking  with  a  frown 
towards  the  poor  woman,  opened  the  door  and  left  the  room. 

Alice,  with  surprise  pictured  on  her  countenance,  fol- 
lowed the  man  with  her  eyes  as  he  went  out,  and  then 
looked  at  Mrs.  Willson  for  some  explanation  of  the  lan- 
guage she  had  heard. 

A  moment  or  so  elapsed  ere  Mrs.    Willson  recovered 


102  JANE     WILLS  ON. 

^^ 

.-_ 

from  her  agitation  sufficiently  to  look  up.  "  O,  my  dear 
young  lady !"  at  length  she  said,  "  what  must  you  think  of 
what  has  just  passed !  That  brute  in  human  shape  who 
has  just  left  us  is  my  unfeeling  landlord.  Unfortunately  I 
owe  him  for  rent,  and  have  asked  lenity  and  time  to  cancel 
his  claims  on  us  ;  but  what  think  you  is  the  alternative 
the  wretch  has  dared  to  offer  ?  Start  not,"  continued  she, 
convulsively  seizing  her  hand,  "  start  not,  when  I  say  he 
demands  the  uttermost  farthing  of  his  rent  within  twenty- 
four  hours,  or  the  virtue  of  that  guileless  being,  my  daugh- 
ter. Do  you  wonder,  then,  at  the  agitation  of  a  mother  in 
hearing  such  an  infernal  proposition  V' 

Alice  Alden  listened  with  the  most  intense  earnestness 
to  this  communication,  a  burning  blush  covering  her  face 
and  shooting  up  to  her  temples. 

"  Is  it  possible?"  said  she,  "is  it  possible,  that  there 
exists  on  God's  footstool  such  a  deprave  1  villain  ?  Calm 
your  feelings,  my  good  woman  !  The  vile  wretch  shall  h:m> 
his  rent,  and  you  shall  leave  his  detested  tenement !"  and  she 
shuddered  at  the  thoughts  that  imperceptibly  rushed  through 
her  mind.  The  noble  and  generous  emotions  of  the  lie-art 
of  Alice  rose  higher  and  higher  as  the  troubles  of  Mrs. 
Willson  came  to  her  knowledge.  "  Yes,  calm  your  feel- 
ings, madam !"  repeated  she,  "  you  shall  be  released  from 
the  toils  of  such  a  base,  unprincipled  scoundrel.  You 
shall  hear  from  me  shortly.  I  will  send  a  person  to  you 
this  evening  with  sufficient  to  liquidate  your  brutish  land- 
lord's claim.  Let  not  your  daughter,  I  beseech  you,  ever 
hear  of  tho  villain's  polluted  proposition.  Shock  not  her 


JANEWILLSON.  108 

pure  ears  with  a  recital  of  the  foul  insult  that  has  been 
aimed  at  yourself  and  her."  Having  said  thus  much, 
Alice  took  her  leave  of  Mrs.  Willson,  hastening  home  as 
fast  as  she  could. 

She  found  her  brother  George  at  home.  Throwing  her- 
self into  his  arms,  she  unfolded  to  him  the  wretched  and 
unprotected  situation  of  Mrs.  Willson.  Tenderly  kissing 
his  beloved  sister,  he  smiled  an  assent  to  fulfil  the  promises 
she  had  made  Mrs.  Willson,  and  writing  a  short  note,  he 
enclosed  the  amount  she  owed  her  landlord,  which  was  only 
ten  dollars,  and  adding  another  for  her  present  necessities, 
directed  it  to  her,  ordering  his  bearer  to  deliver  it  imme- 
diately, and  then  to  seek  out  some  cheap,  respectable  tene- 
ment, and  assist  her  in  moving  into  it  the  next  day. 

The  tenement  to  which  Mrs.  Willson  removed,  on  the 
day  following,  was  a  front  room  in  the  second  story  of  a 
neat  house  in  Greenwich  street ;  and  Alice  had  raised 
a  small  subscription  among  a  few  of  her  acquaintances, 
which  she  appropriated  in  the  purchase  of  a  few  articles  of 
second-hand  furniture,  and  some  useful  and  necessary  cook- 
ing utensils,  crockery,  &c.,  of  which  the  poor  woman  waa 
mostly,  if  not  entirely,  destitute.  These  she  ordered  to  the 
new  residence  of  her  charge.  Nor  did  she  stop  here  ;  but 
procured  from  the  circle  of  her  acquaintance  sufficient  plain 
sewing  to  enable  Mrs.  Willson  to  live  in  a  comfortable 
manner. 

The  winter  passed  off,  and  George  and  Alice  Alden, 
fully  recompensed  in  the  conscious  feelings  that  they  had 
been  instrumental  in  assisting  an  unfortunate  woman, 


104  JANEWILLSON. 

thought  no  more  of  the  acts  which  had,  directly  and  indi- 
rectly, brought  it  about. 

The  month  of  May,  that  delightful  season  of  budding  and 
opening  blossoms,  had  come,  when  nature,  arrayed  in  living 
green,  and  dotted  with  the  gorgeous  petals  of  wild  flowers, 
spread  before  the  eye  a  loveliness  and  beauty  tempting  to 
all  who  enjoy  the  variegated  scenery  of  her  landscape  in  the 
country,  when  George  and  Alice  Alden,  with  their  mother, 
left  the  city  for  a  few  days,  to  visit  some  of  their  friends 
living  up  the  noble  Hudson. 

About  a  week  after  they  had  left,  Mrs.  Willson  was 
sitting  one  afternoon  in  her  room  fronting  the  street ;  the 
window  was  open,  and  she  sat  busily  sewing.  The  rattling 
of  the  carriages  and  carts,  and  the  din  and  bustle  in  the 
street,  did  not  withdraw  her  attention  from  her  work  ;  but 
suddenly  a  loud  shout  and  the  babel  sounds  of  many  voices 
struck  upon  her  ears,  and  looking  from  the  window,  she 
saw  several  persons  lifting  the  lifeless  body  of  a  man  from 
the  pavement,  while  near  by  was  a  horse  without  its  rider, 
rearing  and  plunging,  with  one  or  two  persons  vainly 
attempting  to  hold  him.  Throwing  her  work  aside,  she 
.«•<!  below,  and  met  several  men  bearing  the  body  of  the 
>n  up  the  steps  of  the  house  she  was  in. 

"  Bring  him  to  my  room  !"  she  hastily  exclaimed,  turn- 
ing and  leading  the  way  ;  and  in  a  moment  more  the  man 
was  laid  on  Mrs.  Willson's  bed. 

"  Who  is  he  V  was  asked  by  several ;  but  no  one  present 
knew  him.  A  surgeon,  who  had  been  sent  for,  immediately 
came  in,  and  instantly  proceeded  to  examine  him.  One  of 


JANE      WILLSON.  105 

his  arras  was  broken,  and  though  badly  bruised,  no  other 
serious  injury  was  discovered.  He  was  bled,  and  the  frac- 
tured limb  set  by,  the  surgeon,  who  ordered  that  he  should 
be  kept  quiet ;  and  shortly  after,  the  persons  who  had  been 
drawn  to  the  room  by  the  accident  went  away,  leaving  no 
one  but  Mrs.  Willson  and  the  surgeon  ;  and  he,  after  giving 
some  further  directions  with  regard  to  his  patient,  also  left. 
The  stranger  had  not  spoken  ;  but  had,  after  being  brought 
from  his  lifeless  state,  caused  by  the  shock  of  being  thrown 
from  his  horse  with  violence  on  the  pavement,  passively 
submitted  in  silence  to  all  that  was  done  for  him. 

Mrs.  Willson,  being  left  alone  with  him,  seated  herself 
by  his  bed-side,  that  she  might  be  in  readiness  to  attend  to 
anything  he  might  want.  He  seemed  to  lay  in  a  gentle 
sleep,  and  she  looked  at  his  countenance,  the  lineaments  of 
which  appeared  familiar,  yet  she  could  not  recollect  where 
she  had  seen  it. 

Evening  at  length  arrived,  and  Jane  came  home,  finding 
their  little  room  an  hospital  with  the  invalid  young  man.  Jane 
Willson  partook  too  largely  of  the  feelings  of  her  mother 
to  stand  back  from  acts  of  kindness  to  the  sick  and  dis- 
tressed ;  and,  on  learning  the  circumstances  of  the  accident, 
evinced  as  much  interest  as  her  mother  for  the  invalid  thus 
unexpectedly  quartered  on  them.  Jane,  with  noiseless  steps, 
was  putting  some  of  the  things  of  the  room  in  order,  that  had 
been  displaced  in  the  confusion  of  the  first  attention  to  the 
injured  person,  when  she  discovered  that  his  hat,  which  had 
a  number  of  papers  and  letters  in  it,  had  been  upset,  and 
some  of  them  were  scattered  on  the  floor.  Picking  them 


100  .TANEWILLSON. 

up,  the  direction  of  several  letters  could  not  escape  her 
observation,  and  she  discovered  that  they  were  all  addressed 
to  "George  \lden." 

It  was  not  until  the  next  morning  that  George  awoke  to  a 
consciousness  of  his  situation.  He  opened  his  eyes,  and 
stared  around.  The  room  looked  strange  to  him,  and 
denoted  poverty,  though  everything  appeared  in  the  utmost 
order  and  regularity.  His  bed-clothes  were  coarse,  though 
clean,  and  he  wondered  whose  hands  he  had  fallen  into. 
The  last  that  he  distinctly  recollected  was,  that  he  was 
thrown  from  his  frightened  horse  upon  the  pavement.  He 
had  a  confused  recollection  of  seeing  persons  around  him 
when  he  recovered  from  the  shock ;  but  he  even  did  not 
know  how  much  he  was  injured.  He  attempted  to  raise 
one  of  his  arms,  however,  and  soon  found,  from  the  pain 
he  experienced,  that  it  was  broke,  and  he  felt  a  soreness 
over  him.  Seeing  no  one  in  the  room,  he  lay  looking 
towards  the  door,  musing  on  his  situation,  when  suddenly 
he  saw  the  door  slowly  open,  and  a  girl  on  tip-toe  enter, 
shutting  it  carefully  after  her.  The  surpassing  beauty  of 
the  visitor  caused  him  to  start  as  if  electrified,  and  he 
involuntarily  half  raised  his  head.  "  What  angel  is  that  T  > 
thought  he,  as  he  saw  her  with  a  noiseless  step  cross  the 
room,  and  go  to  a  cupboard.  She  stood  there  a  moment,  and 
as  she  turned,  he  closed  his  eyes,  fearful  that  she  might  see 
him  looking  at  her,  and  leave  the  room.  As  he  lay  with  his 
head  on  the  pillow,  with  one  eye  just  open  sufficiently  to 
discern  her,  he  saw  her  come  to  his  bed-Side  softly  and  look 
at  him,  gently  touch  hi*  face  with  her  hand,  and  then  care 


JANE     WILLSON.  107 

fully  smooth  down  the  bed-clothes.  After  which,  she  stood 
a  few  seconds  gazing  with  a  sorrowful  look  at  him,  and 
then  lightly  moved  to  the  window  ;  a  muslin  curtain  shaded 
it,  which  she  drew  aside  a  little  and  stood  looking  out.  He 
had  a  kind  of  side  view  of  her  face.  "  She  is  a  very  beauti- 
ful girl,"  mentally  said  he.  For  half  an  hour  she  remained 
in  the  room,  when  the  door  again  opened,  and  some  other  one 
entered,  she  at  the  same  time  passing  out.  The  person 
who  entered  was  an  elderly  woman,  who  seated  herself  in 
silence  by  the  window,  apparently  as  a  kind  of  relief-watch. 
The  dazzling  beauty  of  the  girl  who  had  left  the  room, 
compared  to  the  ordinary  appearance  of  the  woman  who  had 
taken  her  place,  led  him  rightly  to  suppose  they  were 
neither  kith  nor  kin  to  each  other,  and  he  lay  still  some 
time  thinking  of  the  fairy-beauty  that  had  smoothed  down 
his  bed- covering.  At  length  the  sound  of  voices  on  the 
stairs  and  of  persons  coming  up  aroused  him,  and  in  an 
instant,  his  mother  and  sister,  pale  with  affright,  hastily 
entered  the  room. 

"  Dear  George  !"  they  exclaimed,  as  he  raised  his  head, 
and  they  both  alternately  threw  their  arms  around  his  neck, 
and  wept  over  him.  Mrs.  Willson,  who  had  entered  the 
room  with  them,  also -approached  his  bed-side,  and  after 
the  mother  and  sister  had  risen  from  their  embrace  of  the 
invalid,  she  poured  out  her  thanks  to  him  as  her  benefac- 
tor. His  sister  communicated  to  him  who  Mrs.  Willson 
was,  and  that  it  was  through  her  they  had  just  heard  of 
his  accident — having  that  morning  returned  from  their  visit. 
The  surgeon  in  attendance  now  coming  in,  they  all  had  the 


108  JANEWILLSON. 

gratification  of  hearing  that  George  was  in  no  danger,  and 
in  a  day  or  two  might  with  safety  be  removed. 

"  And  why  not  immediately  1"  asked  Mrs.  Alden,  who 
wished  her  son  at  home,  that  they  might  nurse  him  with  less 
trouble  than  at  his  present  place  of  confinement.  The  sur- 
geon, however,  thought  it  too  risky  to  attempt  it  that  day ; 
and  George  felt  a  secret  pleasure  that  he  was  to  remain,  the 
thoughts  of  the  beautiful  Jane  running  in  his  head,  whom 
he  hoped  he  might  see  again.  He  longed  to  ask  some  ques- 
tions concerning  her  of  Alice ;  but  no  opportunity  seemed 
to  present.  He  overheard,  however,  Alice's  inquiry  respect- 
ing Jane,  and  learned  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure  that  she 
would  be  home  from  her  work  about  dark. 

Mrs.  Alden  ordered  everything  necessary  for  her  son's 
comfort  to  be  brought  from  her  house,  and  she  and  Alice 
spent  the  most  of  the  day  with  him.  His  mother,  towards 
night,  left  Alice  to  assist  Mrs.  Willson  in  attending  on  him. 

It  was  nearly  dark,  and  George  was  impatiently  looking 
at  every  one  that  entered  the  room,  with  the  vain  hope  that 
it  was  the  handsome  Jane.  At  length  she  came  in,  and  his 
eyes  glistened  with  delight,  as  he  saw  her  trip  lightly  across 
the  room,  and  fondly  throw  her  arms  around  his  sister's 
neck,  and  kiss  her  with  all  the  ardor  and  affection  of  inno- 
cent love  and  friendship.  In  his  heart  he  envied  the  lips 
of  his  sister ;  and  when  Alice  led  her  timidly  towards  him 
and  introduced  her,  he  put  forth  his  arm,  and,  with  pleasure 
beaming  in  his  countenance,  took  her  hand  in  his,  pressing 
it  involuntarily  from  feelings  he  could  not  repress. 

Alice  could  not  but  observe  the  marked  admiration  her 


J  A  N  E      \V      L  L,  S  O  N  .  109 

brother  showed  when  looking  at  Jane.  He  was  her  idol, 
and  whatever  pleased  him  caused  a  simultaneous  feeling 
with  herself.  The  first  opportunity  that  George  and  Alice 
were  alone,  he  said  to  her,  "  Why,  dear  sister,  did  you 
never  tell  me  of  that  lovely  girl  ?  I  have  frequently  heard 
of  the  pretty  Jane ;  but  little  dreamed  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  the  widow  that  had  elicited  our  sympathies." 

Alice  smiled,  and  replied,  "  Though  I  have  known  her 
also,  I  little  dreamed  she  would  at  first  sight  steal  my 
brother's  heart.  George,"  continued  she,  "you  are 
caught !"  and  she  smiled  as  a  deep  blush  mantled  his 
face. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  he  answered,  striving  to  conceal  his  con- 
fusion at  the  quick  perception  of  his  sister. 

The  next  day  George  Alden  was  removed  home,  and  it 
was  nearly  a  week  ere  his  physician  would  let  him  go  out. 
Once  only  during  that  time  did  he  see  the  object  that  now 
occupied  all  his  thoughts ;  and  then  for  a  moment  only, 
as  she  came  to  return  some  trifling  things,  that  had  been 

carried  to  Mrs.  Willson's  for  his  convenience. 

**          ****** 

About  six  months  after  the  convalescence  of  George 
Alden,  a  splendid  fete  was  given  by  Alice,  the  principal 
attraction  of  which,  that  drew  the  wondering  gaze  of  the 
guests  in  attendance,  was  the  young  and  lovely  bride  of 
George,  "THE  PHETTY  JANE  WILLSON." 

ATTBURN,  N.  Y 


110  LINES. 


KXI3S  0V  233  3)3A»S  03  A  JP03SS3S, 

BY      J.       C.       HAGEN. 

AB  lately  I  strayed  through  the  evergreen  bowers, 

Whose  music  so  often  had  cheered  me  before, 
A  Toice  from  the  trees,  and  the  birds,  and  the  flowers, 

In  accents  of  wailing,  sang — "  Fanny's  no  more !" 

A  sweet  child  of  nature,  so  gentle,  so  tender, 
Our  hearts  in  her  numbers  it  cheered  us  to  pour, 

And  all  that  was  pure  in  our  music  to  lend  her — 
But  hushed  is  her  voice,  for  "  our  Fanny's  no  more !" 

In  the  quiet  of  evening,  the  breeze's  soft  sighing, 
The  voice  of  the  stream,  and  the  groves  on  the  shore, 

And  echo's  sweet  notes  to  their  music  replying, 
All  bore  the  sad  burden — •*  Our  Fanny's  no  more !" 

The  dear  ones  whose  loved  home  to  cheer  she  delighted, 
While  life's  pulses  beat,  shall  her  mem'ry  adore  ; 

Their  bosoms  are  rent,  and  their  fondest  hopes  blighted, — 
Ah  !  well  may  they  weep,  for  "  their  Fanny's  no  more  !" 

All  crushed  is  her  lute,  and  no  aid  can  restore  it, 

For  cold  are  the  fingers  that  swept  it  of  yore  ; 
Yet  still. when  the  wings  of  the  zephyr  pass  o'er  it, 

It  sighingly  whispers — "  Our  Fanny's  no  more !" 

The  angels  have  added  a  harp  to  their  numbers, 

Or  regained  one  but  lent,  they  had  sought  to  restore, 

Though  mortals  still  fancy  its  voice  ever  slumbers, 
And  weep  at  the  thought  that  "  their  Fanny's  no  more." 


THE      LIGHT-HOUSE  111 


SSI    EI.*Bf-BtWtB. 

BY     ALFRED     A.     PHILLIPS. 

SAILING  from  the  noble  harbor  of  New  York  on  a  sunny 
afternoon  in  July,  in  ">ne  of  those  fairy-like  craft  which 
skim  through  our  waters  like  things  of  life,  scarce  marking 
the  placid  surface  of  the  deep  even  with  a  ripple,  we  passed 
through  the  narrow  entrance  of  the  majestic  bay,  and  swiftly 
cut  our  way  towards  the  ocean.  The  prospect  was  indeed 
beautiful,— far  astern  the  receding  spires  of  the  great 
metropolis  rose  dimly  in  the  distance,  while  the  bold  bluffs 
of  Staten  Island  stood  like  grim  watchers  of  the  portals  of 
the  spacious  harbor.  Directly  in  view  appeared  the  con- 
spicuous beacon  of  Sandy  Hook  Light-house,  while  or 
either  side  the  white  sandy  beach  gradually  receded  from 
the  eye  until  lost  in  the  surges  of  the  ocean.  Even  here  all 
was  bustle  and  activity  :  the  wide  expanse  was  studded  with 
vessels  of  every  class,  manned  with  crews  from  every  clime. 
Here  the  snug  clipper  silently  flew  through  the  water  to  her 
destination;  farther  astern  the  cumbrous  hulk  of  a  Ger- 
man ship  tumbled  clumsily  along,  while  the  loud  clatter  of 
confused  voices  proclaimed  her  the  bearer  of  an  increase  to 
our  population.  In  close  contact,  gallantly  breasting  the 


112  THE      LIGHT-HOUSE. 

surge,  came  one  of  our  noble  frigates,  alike  the  dread  and 
admiration  of  the  world,  while  in  her  wake  a  ponderous 
British  steamer  ploughed  her  way  amid  steam  and  smoke, 
like  a  huge  monster  chafing  at  restraint,  and  madly  plung- 
ing in  his  endeavors  to  be  free.  These,  together  with 
numerous  inland  craft  and  pleasure-steamers,  completed  the 
scenery.  Toward  evening  the  stiff  breeze  died  gently  away, 
and  not  a  breath  of  air  ruffled  the  surface  of  the  water. 
The  sky  was  cloudless,  the  air  unusually  calm,  and  no 
sound  save  an  occasional  burst  of  merriment  from  the  crew 
of  a  neighboring  vessel  disturbed  the  death-like  quietude. 
As  the  shades  of  night  threw  their  gloomy  pall  over  the 
lovely  scene,  the  beacon  on  the  shore  threw  its  glare  wildly 
on  the  dark  waters,  contrasting  its  strong,  lurid  light  with 
the  dull  glimmering  of  the  sleepy  eyes  of  heaven.  The 
moon  had  not  yet  risen,  and  a  placid  yet  gloomy  light 
awakened  a  pensive,  half-melancholy  feeling  within  the 
breast  of  the  observer.  Nature  lay  calm  as  a  sleeping 
infant,  betraying  nought  to  alarm  or  destroy — a  striking 
illustration  of  the  deceptiveness  of  outward  appearances. 
Little  could  the  entranced  beholder  realise  that  in  a  moment 
the  voluptuous,  quiet  scene  before  him  could  be  roused  into 
the  most  violent  and  terrible  contortions.  The  beacon  still 
shone  in  lustrous  splendor,  and  cast  its  glaring  light  upon 
the  unrippled  water.  As  I  gazed  and  admired  the  scene 
before  me,  the  thought  was  presented  to  my  mind,  Yon  bea  • 
con  shines  as  a  warning ;  surely  danger  lurks  not  beneath 
so  secure  and  calm  a  spot — 'tis  but  to  cause  anxiety 
and  dread  within  the  breast  of  the  approaching  stranger  ^ 


THE      LIGHT-HOUSE.  113 

whose  bosom  leaps  with  hope  at  the  speedy  termination  of 
his  dreary  voyage.  But,  alas  !  how  short-sighted  and  fal- 
lacious the  idea !  scarce  were  my  reveries  concluded,  when 
the  dark-boding  outlines  of  a  ponderous  cloud  appeared 
in  the  southern  sky,  and,  as  if  by  magic,  small  fleecy  par- 
ticles, as  of  the  breadth  of  a  man's  hand,  arose  in  every 
quarter  and  fled  with  impetuous  haste  to  join  their  mother, 
with  the  black,  frowning  mass  which  now  rose  in  terrific 
grandeur,  and  cast  a  dreadful  wildness  over  the  lovely  scene 
beneath  ;  and,  as  if  the  spell  had  been  broken  by  a  word, 
the  vast  expanse  of  water  started  into  a  thousand  masses, 
and  with  the  wind,  which  rose  instantaneously  into  a  fright- 
ful roar,  tost  our  little  bark  like  a  shell  upon  the  maddened 
billows.  Gallantly,  however,  she  breasted  the  storm,  and 
reached  in  a  few  minutes  a  comparatively  secure  harbor, 
under  the  shelter  of  the  bold  bluff,  from  which  shone  the 
blood-red  light.  Here  we  could  view,  at  the  expense  of  a 
thorough  drenching,  the  effects  of  the  fearful  convulsion 
which  had  so  suddenly  arrested  our  quiet  journey.  The 
white  sails  of  the  shipping,  which  had  been  spread  to  catch 
every  breath  of  air,  were  now  closely  secured,  and  nothing 
but  the  dark  hull  of  the  giant  steamer  was  visible  in  the 
thickly-gathering  gloom.  The  wild  howls  of  the  rushing 
wind,  and  angry  toss  of  the  foaming  wave,  as  it  dashed 
with  maddened  fury  upon  the  beach,  filled  me  with  alarm 
for  the  safety  of  the  vessels  in  the  vicinity.  The  storm 
raged  with  unabated  fury  for  upwards  of  an  hour,  yet  amid 
all  this  war  of  elements  the  beacon  still  shed  its  warning 
light,  a  guardian  genius  to  the  wave-tossed  mariner,  a 


THE     LIGHT-HOUSE. 


symbol  of  safety  and  welcome  to  the  returning  wanderer. 
The  thunder  seemed  to  shake  the  earth  to  its  very  centre, 
and  the  forked  lightning  played  in  ^terrific  gambols  through 
the  dark  expanse.  The  heavy,  lowering  clouds  seemed  at 
length  to  envelop  and  obscure  even  the  strong  light  of  the 
beacon,  and  the  continual  crash  of  the  deafening  thunder 
struck  with  awe  and  deep  solemnity  the  astonished  listener. 
The  transformation  of  the  lovely  arid  quiet  scene  into  this 
hideous  combination  of  deafening  sounds  and  frightful  fea- 
tures led  me  imperceptibly  into  a  reverie,  from  which  I  was 
aroused  by  perceiving  a  vessel,  discernible  only  by  her  long, 
lark  hull,  rapidly  approaching  the  shoal-water.  Startled 
and  alarmed  by  her  immediate  danger,  I  wildly  shouted  to 
her  to  beware  a  near  approach,  but  my  voice  was  as  nothing 
in  the  deafening  hubbub,  —  still  she  kept  on.  "  Heavens  !" 
involuntarily  exclaimed  our  captain,  "  she  cannot  see  the 
light!" 

Scarcely  had  the  words  passed  his  lips  when  the  cloud, 
which  had  frowned  so  fiercely,  suddenly  broke  above,  and 
she  perceived  the  light,  as  we  conjectured  by  her  instantly 
changing  her  course,  and  avoiding  so  dangerous  a  collision. 
The  lowering  clouds  gradually  melted  away,  the  gale 
abated,  the  stars  seemed  waked  from  their  slumbers,  and 
shone  with  increased  brilliancy.  The  storm  had  subsided, 
and  all  was  peace. 

A  lesson,  fraught  with  deep  import,  may  be  drawn  from 
this  simple  narration.  Thousands  have  sailed  through  the 
quicksands  of  vice  and  crime,  and  no  beacon-light  reared 
its  friendly  warning  for  them.  ,  How  cruel  and  inhuman 


THE      LIGHT-HOUSE.  115 

would  it  be  deemed,  if  a  vessel  should  enter  a  dangerous 
track  which  led  to  irremediable  destruction,  should  the 
light  be  extinguished,  and  she  left  to  dash  unwarned  and 
unpitied  upon  the  hidden  rock  !  And  yet,  when  the  youth 
has  entered  upon  his  career  of  sin,  how  often  has  the  door 
of  benevolence  and  sympathy  been  shut  to  his  call,  and  he 
left  to  perish  unmourned  and  unheeded  in  the  dread  abyss 
of  wo  1  Thanks  to  the  philanthropy  of  the  present  age,  so 
gross  a  negligence  has  ceased  to  exist.  Every  class  and 
condition  of  men,  every  sect  and  denomination,  civil  and 
religious,  have  erected  their  different  lights,  and  the  wan- 
derer, however  reckless,  may  behold  their  faithful  beams. 
The  church  stands  upon  the  highest  pinnacle,  and  throws 
her  radiating  beams  over  the  civilized  world  ;  the  watchmen 
upon  her  walls  continually  sound  the  alarm,  and  to  her 
friendly  shelter  she  invites  the  voyager  upon  the  sea  of  life, 
bids  him  enter  the  haven  of  her  rest,  and  anchor  within  her 
quiet  precincts.  The  Genius  of  Liberty,  with  pinions 
extended  over  our  beloved  land,  shines  with  unapproachable 
lustre  as  the  Light-House  of  Universal  Freedom  to  Man. 
Her  radiance  has  pierced  the  dark  clouds  of  feudal  tyranny, 
and  revealed  the  cruelty  of  despots.  Her  happy,  soul- 
inspiring  strains,  have  roused  the  slumbering  spirits  of  the 
vassal,  have  filled  the  slave  with  a  new-born  impulse,  and 
kindled  within  him  a  spirit  of  indignation  against  his  lawless 
oppressor,  that  has  burst  the  galling  chains  of  bondage  that 
held  him  from  his  high  estate,  and  caused  the  tyrant  to 
quail  before  the  impetuous  onset  of  his  down-trodden  and 
insulted  subjects.  She  shines  as  a  warning  as  well  to 


116  THE     LIGHT-HOUSE. 

individual  as  to  national  tyrants.  She  is  the  beacon  mark- 
ing the  sunken  rocks  of  ambition  and  arrogance,  upon  which 
mighty  republics,  in  their  voyage  to  the  glorious  haven  of 
man's  political  amelioration,  have  struck,  and  made  ship- 
wreck their  fondest  hopes  and  joyous  expectations.  Their 
outset  was  indeed  prosperous ;  the  sea  of  experiment  rolled 
smoothly  on,  and  not  an  adverse  wind  ruffled  their  calm 
repose,  till  the  inviduous  cloud  of  personal  aggrandizement 
and  voluptuous  ease  sent  forth  the  winds  of  discontent,  and 
scattered  the  voyagers  over  the  trackless  ocean,  when,  losing 
sight  of  the  port  of  their  destination,  the  hurricane  of  fac- 
tion dashed  the  fragile  bark  upon  the  devastating  rock  of 
corruption,  anfl  destroyed  the  last  vestige  of  their  transient 
greatness.  She  stands  pointing  with  tearful  eyes  to  the 
remains  of  Rome's  once  mighty  people,  and  bids  the  free- 
man beware  of  the  withering  influence  of  that  deadly 
ambition  which  laid  waste  the  splendid  fabric  of  that 
primary  but  powerful  republic.  She  appears  as  the  guar- 
dian angel  of  Freedom,  and  bids  those  who  approach  to 
shun  the  rock  upon  whkh  others  have  split,  or  meet  the 
same  destructive  fate.  Philanthropy  also  has  planted 
innumerable  lights  among  the  shallow  waters  of  destruction. 
Her  vivifying  rays  render  the  night  of  vice  and  immorality 
so  clear  that  the  wanderer  as  he  runs  may  be  admonished 
of  their  dangerous  precincts.  The  pure  Genius  of  Tem- 
perance, clothed  in  garments  of  spotless  white,  sparkling 
Hh  crystal,  charms  the  deluded  victim  of  unhallowed 
and  in  characters  of  living  light  illuminates  the  path 
in  .  ich  his  unsteady  feet  are  straying,  and  shows  in  aU 


THE      LIGHT-HOUSE.  117 

their  dread  deformity  the  yawning  gulf  and  bitter  pangs 
that  have  already  marked  him  for  their  prey.  To  the  son 
she  points  to  the  broken  heart  of  the  widowed  mother,  who, 
with  streaming  eyes,  upon  her  knees  supplicates  the  throne 
of  heaven  for  her  inebriate  son.  To  the  brother  she  whis- 
pers the  agonizing  sighs  of  a  youthful  sister,  whose  pale  and 
wan  countenance  tells  of  nights  of  sleepless  sorrow  and  days 
of  endless  torture ;  and  to  the  husband  and  father  she 
speaks  in  the  thundering  tones  of  conscience  of  the  horrors 
of  his  fireside,  where  an  affectionate  wife  and  doating 
family  mourn  in  heart-rending  misery  the  dreadful  depravity 
of*him,  who,  before  angels  and  men,  voluntarily  assumed 
the  relation  of  their  first  friend  and  protector.  And,  bright- 
ly conspicuous  among  this  dazzling  array,  shines  the  pure 
yet  modest  and  retiring  spirit  of  Benevolence,  arrayed  in  all 
the  charming  simplicity  of  a  cottage  maiden,  who  pleases 
more  by  her  shrinking  modesty  than  the  glowing  splendor 
of  her  beauty.  She  has  planted  the  beacon  of  Charity  and 
Love  upon  the  natural  basis  of  social  feeling,  and  her  dove- 
like  spirit  has  taken  refuge  in  and  imparts  her  genial  influ- 
ence through  the  philanthropic  channel  of  the  Lodge.  She 
has  lighted  a  flame  so  powerful  and  so  pure,  that  it  is  felt 
in  the  most  obscure  and  wretched  abode.  Want  and 
poverty  fly  before  her  searching  rays.  The  distressed  and 
suffering  hail  her  as  the  messenger  of  mercy  from  above, 
and  the  fatherless  child,  clinging  to  her  widowed  mother, 
learns  to  lisp  the  gratitude  of  an  affectionate  heart. 

The  fabric  of  our  Order  is  knit  together,  and  composed 
of  the  rarest  materials  drawn  from  the  finest  feelings  of 


118  THE     LIGHT-HOUSE. 

the  heart.  The  enthusiasm  of  myriads  of  her  sons  form 
an  uncxtinguishable  light  to  guide  the  worthy  to  her  friend- 
ly embrace.  Not  only  is  she  a  safeguard  from  immorality 
and  crime,  but  her  portals  are  thrown  open  as  a  shelter  and 
refuge  to  those  who  have  been  overtaken  by  the  blasting 
etorm.  Her  watchword  is  Honesty,  her  password  ia 
Purity,  and  the  beautiful  motto  that  appears  in  characters 
of  light  above  her  portal  will  shine  with  undying  lustre 
when  the  material  part  of  her  framework  has  mouldered 
and  .liru\  .-I. 

"  'Twos  not  a  love  of  earthly  mould 

That  first  awoke  this  sweet  communion, 
And  earth  can  never  break  the  hold 

Of  such  a  heaven-enkindled  union. 
The  silken  cord  hath  bound  them  fast, 

And  every  storm  that  beateth  round  them, 
And  sorrow's  dark  and  bitter  blast, 

Still  draws  them  closer  than  it  found  them." 

Her  principles  shall  instruct  and  bless,  her  kindness  cheer, 
and  her  alleviating  balm  sooth,  till  generation  after  gen- 
eration shall  proclaim  that,  through  her  ii*strumentality, 
Benevolence  is  indeed  a  brilliant  Light-House  for  the 
unfortunate,  and  a  peaceful  shelter  for  the  way-worn 
traveller. 


TO  *  .  118 


20  *    **. 

A    RESPONSE. 

BY      DUNCAN      ORAY. 

THE  sun  gaed  down  wi'  lurid  hue 

Ayont  the  horison's  crimsoned  brim, 
An'  mony  a  weary  toiler,  too, 

Gaed  down  to  tak'  their  rest  wi'  him ; 
But  na  for  me,  oblivious  rest, 

I  wandered  far  o'er  hill  and  brae, 
For  care  was  heavy  at  the  breast, 

An'  banished  rest  frae  Duncan  Gray. 

I  sat  me  down  beside  a  rill 

That  steals  its  way  to  Hudson's  stream, 
An'  soon,  on  thoughts  o'  human  ill, 

Was  buried  in  a  fever|d  dream  ; 
I  thought  on  love,  I  thought  on  thee, 

When  a'  our  days  were  bright  an'  gay, 
An*  of  thy  fickle  vows  to  me, 

That  stole  the  peace  o'  Duncan  Gray. 

A  leal  light  heart,  whose  earliest  spring! 

Along  thy  vernal  path  were  shed, 
A  maiden  lyre,  whose  pliant  strings 

Wove  chaplets  only  for  thy  head  ; — 


120  TO 


These  were  my  offerings, — what  their  meed  ? — 
But  dew-drops  shed  on  desert  clay  ; 

A  seared  heart,  a  broken  reed, 
An'  life  a  blank  to  Duncan  Gray. 

Sic  were  my  gloomy  thoughts  the  night 

That  we  baith  met  na  mair  to  meet ; 
An*  ah !  how  mony  a  weary  gaet, 

Sin  syne,  ha'  pressed  my  restless  feet ! 
A  blighted  hope,  a  ruined  mind, 

A  future  fraught  wi'  certain  wae, 
Drave  me  to  war's  alarms,  to  find 

A  soldier's  grave  for  Duncan  Gray. 

I've  been  where  Ulloa  castle  stands 

Aboon  the  ocean's  foamy  crest, 
Columbia's  flag  'gainst  Mexic  bands 

Up  Sierra  Gorda's  bosom  prest, 
In  mony  a  pass,  where  bluid  and  scaith 

Wi'  ghastly  terrors  strewed  the  way, 
I  sought  the  dark  release  o'  death  ; 

But  death  aye  fled  frae  Duncan  Gray. 

Fame  crossed  my  path  wi'  orient  wing, 

And  placed  a  wreath  upon  my  brow, 
But  ah  !  what  pride  could  glory  bring — 

For  what  were  fame  and  fortune  now ! 
A  gloomy  pall  my  vision  crossed, 

Despair  by  night  an'  grief  by  day  ; — 
Hopes  bloomed  na  mair  like  tlose  I  lost, 

The  early  hopes  o'  Duncan  Gray. 

At  length  I  find  thy  heart  was  leal, 

Thy  thoughts  were  round  my  pathway  still; 

An'  my  wrung  heart  the  strength  reveals 
0*  human  love  o'er  human  will : 


TO  *  .  121 

Frae  aff  iny  path  the  dark  clouds  roll, 

A  light  has  broken  o'er  my  way, 
An'  kindled  in  the  darkened  soul 

The  long  lost  joys  o'  Duncan  Gray. 

The  mavis  haunts  the  forest  tree, 

Where  first  she  built  her  maiden  nest, 
The  wounded  heart  will  steek,  to  die, 

The  glade  its  early  gambols  prest : 
Sae  I,  on  life's  rude  ocean  tost, 

To  carking  care  and  grief  a  prey, 
Maun  turn,  to  where  in  youth  were  lost 

The  heart  an'  hopes  o'  Duncan  Gray. 

Then  weep  na  mair,  my  ain  dear  maid, 

But  wipe  away  thy  pearly  tears, 
The  course  o'  love  sae  lang  delayed 

Will  flow  more  smooth  in  after  years : 
The  beds  in  drear  December  trod, 

Wi'  earliest  promise  bless  the  May  ; 
Sae,  ablains,  purified  by  God, 

The  bruise'd  heart  o'  Duncan  Gray. 

Oft  by  braid  Hudson's  wave,  alane, 

We'll  haunt  each  long-remembered  dell, 
And  a'  the  sorrows  we  ha'  nane 

We'll  aft  recount  atween  ourseP  ; 
Wi'  thy  pure  snaw-white  han'  in  mine, 

Ye'll  sing  to  me  the  melting  lay 
That  mony  a  lanely  night  sin'  syne 

Ha'  filled  the  soul  o'  Duncan  Gray 


2E  N  E  A  S  . 


4IBAS. 

THIS  is  the  name  of  one  celebrated  in  song  and  poetry, 
by  some  of  the  first  and  most  beautiful  classic  poets  the 
world  ever  was  graced  with.  Virgil  has  been  most  success- 
ful in  his  delineation  of  the  character.  The  name 
"  ^Eneas,"  as  classically  rendered,  signifies  a  man,  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  fairer  ornaments  of  society  ;  also  the  male 

any  species,  as  distinguished  from  the  female.  By  the 
tion  of  the  gods,  he  left  his  country  under  their  c^- 
duct,  and  sailed  for  Italy,  in  sight  of  which  place,  Juno, 
to  revenge  herself  upon  the  Trojans,  obtained  assistance 
from  jEolus,  who,  with  his  terrific  winds,  dispersed  the 
Trojan  fleet,  which  so  irritated  Neptune  that  he  stayed  the 
storm,  and  assisted  in  the  relief  of  the  fleet.  Eventually 
.flSneas  is  found  in  Carthage,  subject  to  the  admiration  of 
Dido;  and  at  a  banquet,  prepared  regardless  of  all  expense, 
she  requests  him  to  relate  the  sufferings  of  his  country- 
men, the  Trojans,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  siege  of 
Troy,  in  which  the  Trojans  were  overcome,  and  the  city 
destroyed.  His  story  was,  that  the  Greeks  gave  ^Eneas 
permission  to  carry  off  what  was  dearest  to  him,  and  that 
he  took  his  father  upon  his  shoulders  to  a  place  of  safety  ; 
that  the  Greeks,  astounded  with  this  eminent  example  of 
filial  tenderness  and  affection,  gave  him  further  privileges, 
whereby  he  was  enabled  to  secure  his  household  gods,  and 


SECRETS     OF     MASONRY.  123 

the  whole  of  his  family,  and  all  his  effects.  The  plate  re- 
presents JSneas  with  his  father  upon  his  shoulders,  bearing 
him  away  from  the  scene  of  destruction  and  horror.  The 
little  boy,  who  goes  forward,  and  so  hopefully  points  to  the 
future,  is  supposed  to  be  the  son  of  ^Eneas. 


836S3XS  83?  M&SDOT. 

IT  has  been  hinted  by  some  insidious  and  malevolent 
characters,  who  are  excluded  from  the  secrets  of  free- 
masonry, that,  therefore,  such  society  cannot  be  good. 
"If,"  say  they,  "  their  meetings  be  for  the  promotion  of 
probity  and  virtue,  why  are  there  so  many  secrets'?" 
Nothing  but  what  is  mischievous,  they  think,  is  ever  con- 
cealed. 

The  philosophers  of  old  informed  us,  that  to  be  secret 
(or  silent)  was  to  be  wise.  None  but  fools  babble  ;  wise 
men  keep  their  counsel.  This  is  surely  verified  in  the  pre- 
sent times ;  and  I  am  certain,  if  the  world  had  been  ac- 
quainted with  the  mysteries  of  freemasonry,  notwithstand- 
ing the  many  excellencies  it  possesses,  it  would  not  have 
been  in  existence  now ;  for,  seeing  that  by  secrecy  friend- 
ship is  proved,  so  by  secrecy  friends  are  united.  It  is  the 
chain  which  unites  our  hearts  and  affections ;  and  without 
which  there  can  be  no  honor.  When  friends  part,  they 
should  faithfully  lock  up  in  their  hearts  each  other's  secrets, 
and  exchange  keys. 

But  why  is  it  supposed  that  secrets  imply  some  mischiev- 


124  SECRETS      OF     MASONRY. 

ous  or  unworthy  designs  ?  Are  there  not  secrets  in  every 
family?  and  why  not  in  a  society?  Does  not  a  member 
thereby  feel  himself  secure  ?  and  is  not  he,  through  this  de- 
corum, enabled  to  relate  any  secret  misfortune  which  he 
would  be  very  loth  to  advertise  the  public  of  ?  Secrecy  is 
the  union  of  hearts ;  and  the  more  important  the  secrets, 
the  greater  is  his  confidence  who  imparts  them — the  greater 
his  honor  who  preserves  them. 

The  utility  of  having  secrets  in  a  society  is  to  prove  by 
secrecy  that  the  members  thereof  are  men  of  probity,  truth, 
and  honor — who  can  withstand  all  inducements  to  violation 
of  a  trust,  and  prove  themselves  above  deceit,  and  too 
strong  for  temptation. 

We  are  told  that  there  are  secrets  above.  Many  of  the 
divine  determinations  no  man  knoweth,  not  even  the  angels 
which  are  in  heaven  ;  and  seeing  that  we  are  enjoined  to 
be  secret,  even  in  charity,  thnv  is,  to  use  a  common  phrase, 
much  virtue  in  secrecy.  Why  then  attribute  to  the  arcana 
of  freemasonry  aught  that  is  improper  or  unjust,  when  the 
most  noble  of  all  virtues,  Charity,  may,  for  aught  they 
know,  be  included  among  those  secrets  ? 

In  order  to  prove  the  utility  of  secrecy,  I  shall  here  de- 
lineate two  characters  which  form  a  perfect  contrast :  Tom 
Tattle  and  Jack  Wary. 

Tom  is  a  wild,  unthinking  fellow,  so  much  addicted  to 
loquacity,  that,  if  intrusted  with  a  secret,  he  would  die,  if 
he  did  not  tell  it  immediately.  Indeed,  Tom  Tattle  could 
never  keep  his  own  secrets ; — the  consequences  of  such  im- 
prudence have  frequently  been  fatal.  He  once  lost  a  place 


SECRETS     OF     MASONRY.  125 

by  too  freely  and  unguardedly  communicating  his  intention, 
and  the  source  of  his  interest,  by  which  means  he  was  sup- 
planted. Another  time  he  lost  a  mistress  by  expatiating 
upon  her  charms,  and  discovering  that  she  had  a  fortune. 
Such  attractions  induced  one  of  the  many  to  whom  he  im- 
parted this  secret  to  become  acquainted  with  the  lady,  and 
poor  Tom  was  again  supplanted !  This  imprudent  confi- 
dence has  likewise  subjected  him  to  much  ridicule  ;  his  dis- 
appointments being  always  the  more  mortifying  as  they 
were  consequently  known  to  his  friends,  who,  according  to 
custom,  forbore  not  to  deride  the  man  who  could  not  be 
silent  till  he  had  an  occasion  to  speak.  Misfortunes  are 
rendered  double  by  becoming  public.  Thus  it  is  with  Tom 
Tattle  ; — he  goes  to  every  one  to  let  them  know  that  he  in- 
tends to  wait  on  my  lord  to-morrow  to  ask  such  a  favor. 
To-morrow  comes ;  and  he  is  obliged  to  confess  his  lordship 
refused  him.  Whenever  any  one,  according  to  the  usual 
phrase,  and  as  a  prelude  to  some  discovery,  says,  "  Can  you 
be  secret  ? — the  question  hurts  his  pride,  and  he  promises 
to  be  as  silent  as  the  grave ;  but  his  tongue,  like  the  tomb- 
stone, tells  every  passer-by  what  the  contents  are.  This 
has  brought  poor  Tom  into  many  scrapes.  He  has  been 
obliged  to  fight  several  duels ;  but,  till  shot  through  the 
head,  he  will  never  be  able  to  keep  a  secret. 

Not  so  with  Jack  Wary.  He  is  so  exceedingly  cautious 
and  reserved,  that  all  his  actions  are  to  himself  only.  No 
one  knows  how  much  he  owes,  or  how  much  is  due  to  him  ; 
yet  Jack  can  be  communicative  at  times.  It  is  not,  however, 
to  Tom  Tattle  that  he  would  impart  any  of  his  secrets, 


I  -' >  M  A  S  C  N  I  C     O  D  E  . 

but  to  one  of  his  own  stamp,  who  can  be  equally  prudent 
and  reserved. 

Such  is  the  character  of  Jack,  that  his  friendship  is  uni- 
versally courted.  He  is  never  involved  in  any  quarrel ;  he 
never  offends;  he  never  breaks  his  word;  and,  as  he 
troubles  no  one  with  his  own  affairs,  of  course  he  escapes 
all  the  sarcastic  rubs  of  his  neighbors.  Notwithstanding 
Jack  can  be  on  some  occasion  inquisitive,  he  will  be  curious 
when  he  means  to  be  of  service,  and  officious  when  anxious 
to  perform  the  task  of  friendship.  In  this  instance,  curi- 
osity is  laudable,  though  for  the  most  part  reprehensible. 

These  two  characters  were  proposed  to  a  lodge  for  admis- 
sion. Tom,  as  it  may  be  naturally  concluded,  was  re- 
jected, while  Jack,  on  account  of  his  well-known  prudence 
and  integrity,  was  immediately  admitted  ;  he  soon  arrived 
to  the  honor  of  becoming  master,  and  met  with  the  warm 
approbation  of  his  brethren. 


MASOJOE    flJJS. 

BT     A     WORKMAN     OF     THE     TEMPLE. 

EMPIRES  and  kings  have  pass'd  away 

Into  oblivion's  mine ; 
And  toVring  domes  have  felt  decay, 
Since  auld  lang  syne. 

But  Masonry,  the  glorious  art, 
With  wisdom's  rays,  divine — 
Twas  ever  so,  the  Hebrew  crieau 
In  auld  lang  syne. 


MASONICODE.  127 

Behold  the  occidental  chair 

Proclaims  the  day's  decline — 
Hiram  of  Tyre  was  seated  there, 
In  auld  lang  syne. 

The  South  proclaims  refreshment  nigh. 

High  twelve's  the  time  to  dine ; 
And  beauty  deck'd  the  southern  sky, 
In  auld  lang  syne. 

Yes,  Masonry,  whose  temple  here 

Was  built  by  hands  divine, 
Shall  ever  shine  as  bright  and  clear 
As  in  auld  lang  syne. 

Then,  brethren,  for  the  worthy  three 

Let  us  a  wreath  entwine — 
The  three  great  heads  of  Masonry, 
In  auld  lang  syne. 

Remembering  oft  that  worthy  one, 

With  gratitude  divine — 
The  Tyrian  youth — the  widow's  BOB 
Of  auld  lang  syne. 


128  THEPRESSGANG. 


IBS   21333BAHB. 

IT  was  blowing  fresh  from  the  S.  S.  W.  as  the  good 
ship  Mermaid,  homeward  bound  from  the  West  Indies, 
passed  Flamborough  Head.  The  watch. had  been  called  at 
twelve  P.  M.,  and  the  master,  before  he  left  the  deck,  gave 
charge  to  the  mate  to  carry  on  all  the  canvas  that  the  ship 
would  bear,  so  that  she  might  save  the  next  day  tide  into 
Shields,  whither  she  was  bound.  But  such  orders  were 
unnecessary  to  him  who  now  held  command  of  the  deck ; 
independently  of  the  exciting  hopes  of  the  seaman,  which 
strengthen  as  he  draws  nearer  to  his  destined  port,  there 
were  more  than  ordinary  hopes  and  fears  struggling  in  his 
bosom.  After  a  careful  glance  aloft,  seeing  that  the  yards 
were  well  trimmed,  and  every  sail  drawing  properly,  he 
commenced  his  walk  along  the  larboard  side  of  the  quarter- 
duck  ;  but  it  was  not  with  the  steady  and  somewhat  proud 
step  with  which  he  was  wont  to  tread  that  he  now  walked. 
His  pace  was  rapid,  as  if  the  speed  with  which  the  gallant 
ship  bounded  over  the  waters  was  all  too  slow  for  his 
impatient  wishes.  At  times  he  would  suddenly  stop,  note 
carefully  the  land  they  were  passing,  gaze  earnestly  on  the 
foam,  as  it  flew,  or  seemed  to  fly,  past  her ;  and  then  a  low 


THEPRESSGANG.  129 

whistle  would  just  be  heard,  as  if  it  came  almost  uncon- 
sciously from  him — an  invocation  to  the  breeze. 

Whilst  he  is  thus  engaged,  and  as  the  wind  is  steady,  we 
will  take  the  opportunity  of  acquainting  our  readers  with 
some  particulars  of  him  whose  fate  will  form  the  subject  of 
the  following  narrative.  His  parents,  now  dead,  had  for- 
merly been  in  good  circumstances,  and  he,  having  evinced  an 
early  predilection  for  the  sea,  had  been  bound  apprentice, 
at  the  usual  age,  to  one  who  was  then  considered  a  firm 
friend  of  his  late  father ;  but  when  misfortune  overtook  the 
devoted  family,  a  sum  of  money  was  owing  to  this  person, 
and  avarice  being  his  ruling  passion,  this  loss  was  never  for- 
gotten or  forgiven.  After  exhausting  his  efforts  to  harass 
and  distress,  by  course  of  law,  those  whom  misfortune  had 
already  brought  too  low  for  oppression,  and  finding  his 
endeavors  of  no  avail,  he  attempted,  after  the  death  of  the 
father,  by  every  means  in  his  power,  to  annoy  the  son,  who 
was  to  a  certain  degree  under  his  control.  Fortunately  for 
our  hero,  his  malice  was  partly  baffled  here  also.  Attentive 
to  his  duty,  and  giving  his  whole  soul  to  his  profession,  in 
hopes  of  hereafter  reinstating  himself  in  the  sphere  of  life 
in  which  he  had  hitherto  moved,  he  was  the  favorite,  not 
only  of  the  master,  but  of  the  whole  ship's  company  ;  and 
as  the  ship  was  chiefly  engaged  in  foreign  trade,  except  in 
the  winter,  his  enemy's  opportunities  of  showing  ill-will  and 
oppression  towards  him  were  considerably  lessened.  Whilst 
the  father  was  thus  exhausting  every  effort  which  malice 
could  devise  to  render  the  career  of  the  young  man  miser- 
able, there  was  one  who,  like  a  ministering  angel,  poured 


180  THEPRESSGAXG. 

balm  into  the  wounds  of  his  affliction,  and  shed  the  light  of 
her  love  and  beauty  on  the  darkness  of  his  sorrows.  This 
gentle  being  was  Margaret  Ridley,  the  daughter  of  his  stern 
employer,  and  as  the  richest  fruits  are  often  borne  by  the 
>t  trees,  so  did  this  fair  creature  form  a  striking  con- 
trast to  the  author  of  her  existence.  She  had  lost  her 
mother  at  an  early  age,  and  had  principally  been  brought 
up  with  the  oppressed  family.  During  the  lifetime  of  the 
widow,  she  had,  unknown  to  her  father,  contrived  to  do  her 
all  the  good  offices  in  her  power,  and  now  that  the  mother 
was  dead,  the  whole  of  her  young  affections  were  centered 
in  the  son.  Even  in  tht-ir  infancy  they  had  formed  for 
each  other  a  tender  friendship,  and  this,  increasing  with 
their  years,  had  now  become  a  strong  and  absorbing  passion, 
which  neither  the  frown  of  a  parent  or  any  other  adverse 
circumstance  could  subdue.  Yielding  at  length  to  the  dic- 
tates of  her  own  heart,  and  the  importunities  of  Cuthbert 
Lambton,  she  set  the  consequences  at  defiance,  and  became 
a  wife.  After  this  the  rage  of  old  Ridley  knew  no  bounds, 
and  he  was  only  withheld  from  putting  into  execution  the 
dictates  of  his  fiendish  disposition  by  the  universal  execra- 
tion which  his  conduct  called  forth.  Fortunately  for  Cuth- 
bert, he  very  shortly  after  his  marriage  obtained  a  berth  as 
mate  in  a  respectable  employ,  and  thus  himself  and  wife 
were  enabled  to  live  humbly,  but  happily.  This,  however, 
was  not  doomed  to  last  long.  The  owner  had  died  before 
the  return  of  the  ship  from  her  second  voyage,  and  his  ships 
were  directed  by  his  will  to  be  all  sold.  Cuthbert  was  now 
»ut  of  employ,  and  therefore  subject  to  the  abominable  cus- 


THEPRESSGANG.  131 

torn  (not  law)  of  impressment,  and  of  these  circumstances 
the  smouldering  vengeance  of  old  Ridley  did  not  fail  to 
avail  itself.  On  the  very  night  on  which  he  heard  of  his 
discharge,  he  repaired  to  the  rendezvous-house,  and  although 
the  information  would,  in  ordinary  times,  have  been  suf- 
ficient to  put  the  bloodhounds  on  the  immediate  track  of 
their  victim,  yet  as  peace  was  then  expected,  they  were  not 
anxious  about  men,  and  he  was  forced  to  add  a  handsome 
bribe  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  infernal  design. 

On  that  night  the  hellhounds  broke  into  the  dwelling  of 
Cuthbert,  and  finding  that  their  prey  had  escaped  them, 
proceeded,  according  to  their  established  custom,  to  treat 
the  inmates  with  the  most  brutal  and; Disgusting  violence. 
Poor  Margaret  was  the  more  particular  object  of  their 
brutality  ;  but  she,  rejoicing  in  her  husband's  escape,  bore 
it  with  patient  meekness  ;  and  at  length,  having  exhar 
their  modes  and  means  of  oppression,  and  having  occasioned 
as  much  destruction  as  they  could  accomplish  in  the  period, 
the  degraded  villains  departed  with  blasphemous  threats  of 
future  vengeance.  Such  were  the  visitations  to  which  every 
house  was  subjected  in  those  days,  and  thus  were  its 
inmates  wont  to  be  treated  by  ruffians,  the  very  refuse  of 
the  base  and  vile,  who  were  pointed  out  with  execration 
and  loathing,  as  they  haunted  and  skulked  about  our  sea- 
ports, the  very  Farias  of  society,  and  whose  presence  men 
were  wont  to  shun  as  they  would  fly  from  the  blast  of  the 
Sirocco, — and  for  this  the  boasted  laws  of  England  afforded 
no  redress. 

Cuthbert  had  on  that  evening  retired  to  rest,  but  anxiety 


132  THEPRESSGANG. 

as  to  his  future  prospects,  and  for  the  welfare  of  those  dear 
to  him,  had  banished  sleep.  He  at  once  divined  the  mean- 
ing of  the  disturbance  he  heard,  and  springing  from  his  bed, 
he  rigged  himself  with  a  sailor's  quickiu.-s,  and  after  a 
hasty  embrace  of  his  wife  and  child,  he  escaped  through  a 
back  window  to  the  roof  of  an  adjoining  house ;  and  per- 
fectly acquainted  with  the  bearings  of  the  place,  he  found 
no  difficulty  in  reaching  a  street,  secure  from  the  demons 
who  were  no**  ransacking  his  once  happy  dwelling.  His 
task  was  now  easy,  and  passing  quickly  through  the  deserted 
streets,  he  reached  the  nearest  landing,  and  casting  loose  a 
boat,  was  soon  on  board  the  Mermaid,  which,  commanded 
by  an  old  friend  of  Ais  father,  now  laid  loaded  ready  to  sail 
for  the  West  Indies,  and  where  he  found  shelter  and  safety 
for  the  night.  \YUn  the  master  came  on  board  in  the 
morning,  he,  after  hearing  his  statement,  strongly  advised 
him  to  proceed  with  the  ship  on  the  voyage,  as  in  those  days 
there  were  always  good  chances  to  be  picked  up  in  the 
West  Indies.  Having  accepted  his  offer,  he  wrote  a  hasty 
adieu  to  his  wife,  which  he  entrusted  to  the  master  ;  and  the 
kind-hearted  old  man  enclosed  it  in  a  letter  to  his  own  wife, 
charging  her  to  deliver  it  in  person,  and  to  act  a  mother's 
part  towards  the  now  unprotected  Margaret.  That  tide 
Mermaid  ran  out  of  the  harbor  ;  and  luckily  escaping 
from  being  overhauled  by  the  gang,  she  proceeded,  with  a 
favorable  breeze  from  the  S.  W.,  north  about  on  her 
voyage. 

On  the  passage  out,  the  second  mate  was  lost  overboard 
during  a  heavy  squall,  and  Lambton  was  appointed  to  his 


THEPKESSGANG.  133 

situation.  They  arrived  safely  at  their  destination,  a 
secluded  port  on  the  north  side  of  Jamaica  ;  and  here  the 
mate,  one  of  that  class  who  considered  grog  a  remedy  for 
all  disorders,  applying  too  much  of  his  favorite  stimulus  to 
a  constitution  already  worn  out  by  hardships,  and  perhaps 
by  excess,  was  soon  confined  to  his  berth ;  when  the  duty 
of  tlie  ship  of  course  devolved  upon  Lambton,  and  we  need 
scarcely  say  was  well  and  faithfully  performed,  and  with 
that  rare  tact  only  to  be  found  in  the  true-bred  seaman, 
which  gains  alike  the  good- will  of  both  master  and  men. 
Old  "  hard-a-weather"  yet  lingered,  and  unluckily,  through 
false  delicacy,  his  name  was  still  retained  on  the  ship's 
papers.  It  was  not  until  after  they  struck  the  Gulf  Stream 
that  he  parted  ;  they  were  yet  scarcely  out  of  the  influence 
of  the  Trades,  and  the  ship  was  close-hauled.  The  evening 
was  bright  and  beautiful,  and  night  was  taking  place  of  the 
short  twilight  of  the  Tropics.  He  had  been  lying  for  the 
last  few  hours  insensible  to  surrounding  objects,  but  it  was 
evident  that  his  mind  was  employed  among  the  scenes 
of  his  youth.  At  times  the  answer  would  come  as  lively 
from  him  as  on  that  day  when  first  in  his  pride  he  took  the 
helm  on  crossing  Shields  bar,  and  the  sound  was  as  cheering 
and  jocund  as  when  he  delighted  to  answer  the  pilot's  con. 
Again  the  soundings  would  be  sung  forth  in  a  deeper  strain, 
and  confused  murmurs  would  at  times  be  heard,  as  though 
he  were  backing  and  filling  a  vessel  through  some  narrow 
channel,  and  as  if  his  mind  reverted  to  the  proud  time  when 
he  first  took  command  of  a  ship.  And  so  he  parted.  The 
three  knocks  had  been  given,  the  words  "  larboard  watch 


134  THEPRESSGANQ. 

. •  '      \ 

a-hoy"  were  sung  out,  when,  raising  himself  in  his  berth, 
he  faintly  murmured,  "  my  watch  on  deck,"  and  sunk  back 
a  corpse  !  Rest  thee  well,  brave  old  heart,  for  never  did 
the  blue  waters  close  over  a  better  seaman  ! 

Cuthbert  was  now  second  in  command,  and  so  well  had 
the  master  been  pleased  with  his  conduct,  that  he  more 
than  once  intimated  his  intention  of  leaving  the  sea,  and, 
being  the  chief  owner  of  the  ship,  of  giving  him  the  com- 
mand of  her.  Thus,  therefore,  was  he  agitated,  as  he 
watched  the  course  of  the  Mermaid  along  the  Yorkshire 
coast,  and  when  the  termination  of  his  watch  had  placed  the 
ship  nearly  abreast  of  Huntcliff,  the  struggle  in  his  breast 
had  not  ceased,  ^o  find  himself  approaching  the  goal 
of  his  desires,  all  his  hopes  satisfied  by  the  station  to 
which  he  had  raised  himself,  and  yet  his  fears  excited  by 
the  situation  in  which  he  had  left  his  beloved  Margaret,  we 
cannot  wonder  that  his  feelings  were  in  a  strong  state  of 
excitement.  But  the  necessary  duty  of  preparing  the  ship 
for  going  into  harbor  came  opportunely  to  his  relief ;  and 
now  as  they  neared  Suter  point,  they  could  see  the  dark 
sails  of  the  pilot  cobles  standing  out  to  meet  them.  And 
who,  but  those  who  are  approaching  to  their  own  port,  can 
tell  the  anxiety  with  which  the  pilot  is  expected?  it  is 
from  him  that  they  look  for  the  news  of  the  port,  always 
interesting  to  seamen,  and  it  is  from  him  that  they  hope  to 
gain  some  tidings  of  those  dear  to  them.  When  he  had  at 
length  got  on  board,  after  replying  to  the  usual  inquiries, 
he  informed  them  of  that  which  at  once  damped  the  joy 
they  felt  on  returning  to  their  loved  home  j  to  use  his  own 


THEPRESSGANG.  136 

words,  there  was  a  cursed  gun-pelter  of  a  thing  come  down 
as  a  tender,  and  was  pressing  all  before  her,  and  breaking 
through  all  protection.  "  I  wish,"  said  he,  "  she  was 
upon  the  rocks,  if  the  men  were  all  out  of  her  ;  she  is  lying 
in  Peggy's  hole,  and  has  got  seventy  or  eighty  men  on  board 
of  her,  and  will  sail  next  tide,  or  the  tide  after."  This,  of 
course,  took  the  ship's  company  all  aback,  but  Cuthbert, 
confiding  in  his  situation  as  mate,  felt  no  alarm.  Alas  ! 
he  was  doomed  to  be  fearfully  awakened  from  his  bright 
dreams  of  happiness  ;  the  hour  was  fast  approaching  which 
was  to  shed  its  dark  and  desolating  influence  over  his 
future  fate.  But  time  and  tide  will  wait  for  no  man,  and 
the  good  ship  stood  in  over  the  bar.  She  had  a  leading 
wind  through  the  narrows,  and,  when  abreast  of  the  low 
light,  as  she  hove  in  stays,  a  boat  shoved  off  from  the 
tender,  and  pulled  towards  her ;  and  it  was  afterwards  said, 
by  those  who  were  on  the  look-out,  that  another  boat  left 
at  the  same  time,  and  that  the  figure  which  crouched  in  the 
stern  sheets — as  if  he  endeavored  to  hide  his  accursed  deed 
from  the  sight  of  God  and  man — was  old  Ridley.  The 
ship's  company,  engaged  in  hauling  up  the  foresail,  and 
trimming  the  yards  according  to  the  pilot's  directions,  were 
not  aware  of  the  approach  of  the  vultures,  until  they  were 
on  board.  It  was  evident  from  their  proceedings  that  they 
had  some  particular  object  in  view  ;  instead  of  demanding 
the  crew  to  be  mustered,  the  fellow  who  commanded 
required  to  see  the  ship's  papers,  and  having  glanced  at 
them,  ordered  the  mate  to  be  produced.  Their  meaning 
was  now  plain  enough ;  Lambton's  name  not  being  in  the 


THEPRESSGANG. 


papers,  he  was  unfortunately  within  their  power.  It  was 
in  vain  that  the  master  urged  the  acknowledged  custom, 
that  the  mate  could  not  be  taken  from  the  ship,  until  the 
cargo  was  delivered  ;  the  answer  of  the  ruffian  was  short,  — 
"  He  is  not  your  mate,  as  appears  from  the  papers  —  seize 
him,  men  !"  There  were  three  of  the  tribe  lounging  near, 
according  to  their  preconcerted  scheme,  and  they  at  once 
sprung  forward.  Cuthbert,  fully  alive  to  their  proceedings, 
struck  down  the  first,  and  seizing  a  capstan  bar,  made 
equally  short  work  with  the  remaining  two.  The  blustering 
coward  who  commanded  them,  seeing  blows  going  on  (which 
he  held  in  the  utmost  abhorrence,  when  there  was  a  chance 
of  a  return,  and  only  admiring  them  when  they  could  be 
safely  inflicted,  undft  the  sanction  of  established  tyranny) 
had  withdrawn  to  a  secure  distance,  when  the  pilot,  who,  in 
his  care  for  the  ship,  had  not  lost  sight  of  what  was  going 
on,  found  a  moment  to  approach  Cuthbert.  "  The  coble  is 
under  the  larboard  forechains,  run  for  her,  my  canny  1V1- 
low  ;  pull  over  for  the  south  side  —  all  the  boats  belonging 
to  the  tender  cannot  catch  you."  He  sprang  forward  in 
obedience  to  the  well-meant  hint,  but  it  was  too  late. 
Alarmed  by  the  scuffle,  the  remainder  of  the  gang  luul 
got  upon  deck,  and  were  in  close  pursuit  of  him  ;  he  had 
just  got  hold  of  the  fore-rigging,  and  was  preparing  to 
light  himself  over,  when  one  of  the.  villains  caught  up  a 
handspike,  and  at  one  blow  brought  him  senseless  to  the 
deck.  The  worthy  commander,  seeing  all  danger  over, 
quickly  recovered  his  usual  bluster,  and  having  ordered  his 
victim  into  the  boat,  into  which  he  was  hove  with  very  little 


THEPRESSGANG.  187 

• 

ceremony,  he  took  his  scoundrels  with  him,  and  shoved  off 
from  the  ship.  In  the  meantime  poor  Margaret,  having 
heard  of  the  arrival  of  the  Mermaid,  had  put  off,  flushed 
with  the  joyful  anticipation  of  meeting  with  him  who  was 
to  her  the  dearest  thing  on  earth,  radiant  with  hope,  and 
exulting  in  the  thought  of  welcoming  home  the  wanderer. 
How  often,  in  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  had  she 
prayed  for  this  moment — how  often  had  fancy  pictured  forth 
his  safe  return,  and  bright  and  cheering  visions  of  future 
happiness  !  We  may  imagine,  but  we  cannot  describe,  the 
deadly  pang  which  chilled  to  her  heart,  when  she  beheld  her 
husband  wounded  and  bleeding  in  the  fangs  of  the  blood- 
hounds. Her  first  impulse  was  to  spripg  to  his  assistance, 
but  she  was  repulsed  with  rude  and  savage  violence  ;  and  at 
length,  provoked  by  her  cries  and  lamentations,  the  unmanly 
brute  who  held  command  struck  her  on  the  face  with  the 
tiller ;  the  blood  gushed  from  her  mouth,  and  she  fell  back 
insensible.  Cuthbert  was  now  taken  on  board  the  tender, 
and  bundled  down  amongst  the  rest  of  the  pressed  men, 
with  no  care  or  thought,  upon  the  part  of  his  captors, 
whether  he  were  living  or  dead.  Whilst  his  companions, 
in  distress,  are  using  all  their  means  for  his  recovery,  we 
will  endeavor  to  describe  the  lieutenant  who  commanded 
the  tender.  He  was  now  an  old  man  of  some  sixty  years' 
standing  in  his  present  rank,  drunken  and  debauched  in  his 
habits,  and  yet  with  cunning  sufficient  to  evade  the  conse- 
quences ;  he  was  considered  a  pest  and  a  nuisance  in  every 
ship  to  which  he  had  been  appointed,  and  it  was  always  the 
practice  with  the  captains  with  whom  he  had  sailed  to 


188  THEPRESSGANG. 

„ ' 

manage  to  get  rid  of  him  as  soon  as  possible.  He  was  at 
length  appointed  to  this  service,  because  they  probably  could 
not  spare  a  better  man.  Always  despotic  as  far  as  he  dared 
to  put  it  in  practice,  on  being  appointed  to  a  separate  com- 
mand, his  arrogance  and  tyranny  knew  no  bounds  ;  to  use 
an  expression,  which  too  truly  designated  his  character,  he 
made  the  ship  "  a  hell  afloat !"  Some  little  idea  may  be 
formed  of  him  from  the  conversation  which  took  place 
between  him  and  the  worthy  before  mentioned.  "  Well, 
Mr.  Hard  up,  so  you  have  hooked  the  fellow  ;  but  what  was 
that  infernal  squalling  I  heard  when  you  were  shoving  off 
from  the  ship?"  "  Oh,  his  wife,  I  suppose  ;  but  I  gave  her 
a  dab  across  the  figure-head,  which  will  spoil  her  beauty  for 
some  time  to  come."  "  Serve  her  right ;  but  avast,  I  had 
forgotten ;  where  are  those  fellows  that  were  put  into  irons 
last  night?  order  the  gratings  to  be  rigged,  and  let  Mr.  Start- 
em  turn  up  the  hands  for  punishment.  I  will  learn  them  to 
pay  proper  respect  to  their  superior  officer  ;  discipline  must 
be  kept  up,  Mr.  Hardup."  The  preparations  were  accord- 
ingly made,  the  two  men  were  brought  upon  deck,  and 
without  being  allowed  a  word  in  defence  or  explanation, 
they  were  subjected  to  the  savage  torture  of  the  lash,  for  a 
fancied  slight  offered  to  their  drunken  commander.  It  was 
now  near  four  bells  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  worthy  lieu- 
tenant had  gone  below  to  take  his  grog,  or  as  he  himself 
perhaps  more  properly  expressed  it,  "  to  lay  his  soul  in 
soak,"  when  the  master  of  the  Mermaid,  having  despatched 
the  unavoidable  duties  of  the  ship,  had  come  on  board  the 
tender,  to  use  every  means  in  his  power  for  Cuthbert's 


THEPRESSGANG.  139 

release.  Old  Drumhead  was  roused  from  the  enjoyment  of 
his  grog,  in  much  the  same  temper  in  which  you  might 
imagine  a  famished  tiger,  when  forced  to  quit  its  prey.  It 
was  in  vain  that  the  master  protested  against  his  mate  being 
taken  from  the  ship,  whilst  a  valuable  cargo  was  on  board  ; 
it  ^'as  equally  in  vain  that  he  offered  to  lay  down  the 
amount  requisite  to  procure  a  substitute  ;  nothing  would  be 
listened  to,  and  on  growing  mere  pressing,  and  threatening 
to  have  recourse  to  the  proper  quarters,  he  was  ordered 
over  the  side,  with  threats  of  violence  if  he  did  not  immedi- 
ately leave  the  ship.  The  old  tyrant  was,  however,  ill  at 
ease,  conscious  of  the  illegality  of  his  proceedings,  but 
unwilling  to  disgorge  the  bribe  he  had  received  ;  he  walked 
the  deck  for  some  time  in  much  apparent  perplexity ;  at 
last,  calling  to  him  his  second  in  command,  they  descended 
into  the  cabin  together.  He  was  now  forced  to  take  Hard- 
up  further  into  his  confidence  than  he  had  originally  intend- 
ed, and  after  handing  over  to  him  a  portion  of  the  bribe  he 
had  already  pocketed,  and  promising  him  a  share  of  the 
amount  he  was  to  receive,  if  he  carried  Cuthbert  off,  he 
secured  his  zealous 'co-operation.  Such  a  mode  of  proceed- 
ing was  the  more  necessary,  as,  after  this  hour  of  the  day, 
he  generally  found  himself  not  much  inclined,  or  rather  not 
much  fit  for  duty.  The  result  of  their  conference  was  soon 
evident.  When  Hardup  reached  the  deck,  he  immediately 
ordered  the  signal  to  be  made  for  the  pilot,  and  turned  up 
the  hands  to  unmoor. 

Such  was  often  the  manner  in  which  those  entrusted  with 
its  execution  "abused  the  king's  press  most  damnably." 


140  THEPRESSGANG. 

There  are  many  who,  unacquainted  with  the  workings  of 
the  system,  will  defend  it  under  the  plea  of  necessity,  or  to 
couch  it  in  more  statesman-like  language,  under  the  miser- 
able shuffle  of  expediency.  But  setting  aside  its  horrid  and 
glaring  tyranny  and  injustice,  are  they  aware  that  this  cus- 
tom, abhorrent  alike  before  God  and  man,  has  too  often 
been  made  available  as  the  means  of  satisfying  private 
vengeance?  He  who  had  gold  at  his  command  could 
always  find  in  the  ruffians  who  composed  our  pressgangs 
the  ready  and  willing  ministers  of  his  will.  It  was  of  no 
avail  that  the  victims  were,  by  their  condition  in  life,  sup- 
posed to  be  exempt  from  the  operation  of  the  brutal  cus- 
tom ;  it  was  but  pouncing  upon  them  at  the  proper  moment, 
and  before  the  tardy  remedy  of  the  law  could  be  put  in 
force,  they  were  hurried  fir  from  its  protection. 

a 

MANCHESTER,  England. 


THE     RECLAIMED.  141 


SSI   •BC1AIKBB. 

BY     MRS.      ALICE       C.      HALLOCK. 

"  0  LUXURY  !  bane  of  elated  life,  of  affluent  states, 
What  dreary  change,  what  ruin  is  not  thine  ! 
To  the  soft  entrance  of  thy  rosy  cave, 
How  dost  thou  lure  the  fortunate  and  great — 
Dreadful  attraction !" 

IT  may  be  remembered,  that,  during  the  winter  of  '33 — 
the  cause  of  Temperance  began  to  engross  the  attention  of 
all  classes  and  grades  of  society. 

This  desirable  state  of  popular  excitement  was  not  pro- 
duced by  party  measures  ;  nor  was  it  confined  to  the  abuse 
of  alcoholic  liquors.  It  took  the  more  ample  range  of  cor- 
recting habits  of  intemperance  in  eating  and  drinking,  dress, 
exercise,  &c.,  at  the  same  time  insisting  on  the  necessity  of 
holding  absolute  control  over  all  the  mental  emotions  and 
passions.  The  scourge  of  the  preceding  year,  with  more 
than  the  eloquence  of  a  Demosthenes,  still  re-echoed  the 
warning,  "  Turn  ye  ,  turn  ye,  for  why  will  ye  die,  O  sons 
and  daughters  of  dissipation  ?" 

About  this  time  Mr.  Duinont,  a  gentleman  of  fortune, 
who  had  for  many  years  figured  largely  in  the  world  of 


( 

142  THE     RECLAIMED. 

fashion,  espoused  the  cause  of  Total  Abstinence.  His 
family,  consisting  of  an  amiable  and  affectionate  wife,  two 
sons,  and  a  daughter,  though  enchanted  with  the  pomp  of 
rank,  and'  the  glitter  of  wealth  and  fashion,  gave  their 
assent  to  the  new  measures,  and  in  less  than  three  short 
months  a  thorough  revolution  was  affected  in  every  part  of 
the  establishment. 

Augustus,  the  elder,  was  evidently  the  favorite  son ;  per- 
haps from  his  being  naturally  of  a  slender  constitution  and 
a  ready  wit,  thus  keeping  alive  anxiety  on  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  a  flow  of  humor  and  delight.  He  had  finished 
his  course  of  instruction,  fitting  him  for  the  mercan- 
tile life,  but  declined  entering  into  business,  on  account  of 
his  health.  They  passed  the  holidays,  that  season  of 
parade  and  festivity,  with  no  ostentatious  display,  confining 
their  ceremonious  hospitality  within  the  limits  prescribed 
by  true  dignity  to  themselves  and  proper  respect  to  their 
guests.  In  the  domestic  circle  each  seemed  naturally  to 
possess  his  own  appropriate  department,  so  that  each  felt  a 
degree  of  dependance  on  the  other  for  their  full  measure  of 
happiness.  George,  the  younger,  had  returned  to  the  field 
of  his  scientific  labors,  whilst  Augustus  and  Juliette, 
remaining  at  home,  employed  their  energies  chiefly  in  the 
promotion  of  the  great  cause  of  reform  so  lately  introduced 
among  them.  Louisa  Morton,  the  intimate  friend  of 
Juliette,  was  no  less  an  enthusiast  than  she,  in  every  enter- 
prise connected  with  the  interests  of  virtue  and  benevolence. 
It  was  now  the  latter  end  of  the  month  of  May,  and  all 
nature,  just  expanding  into  new  life,  every  zephyr  wafting 


THE      RECLAIMED.  143 

fragrance,  every  breeze  murmuring  melody,  gave  intima- 
tions that  the  rural  feast  was  prepared.  Songs  of  gladness 
on  the  mountain-tops,  pouring  forth  the  praises  of  the  com- 
mon Parent,  were  now  heard,  saying,  for  "  He  is  good,  for 
his  mercy  endureth  forever."  Juliette  and  Louisa  had 
planned  a  little  excursion,  that  they  might  enjoy  something 
of  the  glories  of  the  opening  season,  and  Augustus  belong- 
ing to  a  club,  and  being  skilled  in  managing  a  boat,  under- 
took to  row  them  a  considerable  distance  round  a  rock} 
point,  where  they  might  disembark  ift  safety,  and  find  a  spot 
suited  to  their  wishes.  Several  others  were  invited,  among 
whom  were  two  young  gentlemen,  members  of  the  same  club. 
The  exertion  of  rowing  had  formerly  been  beneficial  to 
Augustus  ;  but  on  this  occasion  it  proved  too  fatiguing,  and 
when  they  reached  home  his  strength  was  entirely  exhausted. 
Contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  on  the  following  morning  he 
remained  in  his  room  till  the  breakfast  was  over,  when, 
inquiry  being  made,  he  was  found  literally  weltering  in 
gore,  the  vital  current  still  issuing  from  his  mouth. 

A  physician  was  instantly  sent  for,  who  succeeded  in 
checking  this  frightful  symptom,  and,  by  the  use  of  ano- 
dynes, soon  quieted  the  agitated  frame  of  the  sufferer.  He 
had  beenr  seized  with  violent  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs, 
brought  on  by  the  fatigue  of  the  day  preceding.  Every 
kind  of  excitement  was  now  excluded,  and  all  hopes  of 
recovery  or  amendment  depended  on  keeping  both  body  and 
mind  in  a  state  of  the  most  profound  quiet.  The  sole  care 
of  the  patient  was  confided  to  the  mother,  assisted  by 
Juliette,  and  not  a  footstep,  save  that  of  the  physician, 


144  THE     RECLAIMED. 

was  permitted  to  ascend  the  staircase  that  led  to  his  apart- 
ment. And  now,  in  the  midst  of  this  overwhelming  state 
of  affliction  and  distress,  the  blackening  tempest  of  adversity 
seemed  preparing  to  unstop  the  last  vial  of  retribution. 
Private  letters  from  a  friend,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  college 
where  George  was  pursuing  studies  preparatory  to  a  pro- 
fession, informed  Mr.  Dumont  that  it  was  resolved  to  rusti- 
cate the  young  gentleman  for  a  time ; — that  serious  charges 
of  immoral  conduct  remaining  against  him,  with  no  prospect 
of  reformation  on  his  $art,  they  might  expect  a  visit  from 
him,  accompanied  by  such  explanatory  letters  as  the  Presi- 
dent might  think  proper  to  dictate.  This  unwelcome  news 
proved  the  "  mingling  of  the  wormwood  with  the  gall." 
The  vital  energies  of  the  fond,  doating  parent,  already 
excited  to  their  utmost  tension,  seemed  for  a  time  palsied 
by  this  last  fearful  stroke. 

George  Dumont  possessed  by  nature  a  trfrly  noble  spirit. 
He  still  felt  the  claims  of  filial  and  fraternal  duty  to  be 
strong — almost  overpowering.  But,  alas!  how  slight  a 
bias  given  to  the  young  and  tender  twig  destroys  the  sym- 
metry of  the  tree ! 

What  error  in  the  parental  path  can  escape  the  scrutiny 
of  the  child  ?  and  what  deviation  is  more  blighting  in  its 
effects  than  partiality  ?  The  seeds  of  distrust  and  suspicion, 
early  sown  in  the  mind  of  young  Dumont,  had  "  grown  with 
his  growth  and  strengthened  with  his  strength,"  thus 
depriving  him  of  those  salutary  restraints  against  vicious 
indulgences,  and,  at  the  same  time,  weakening  all  the 
incentives  to  virtuous  actions  usually  thrown  around  the 


THE      RECLAIMED.  145 

young,  by  the  fostering  hand  of  paiental  solicitude  and 
affection.  Habits  of  indulgence  in  luxurious  living  were 
the  natural  result  of  his  early  education  ;  and,  possessing  a 
firm,  unyielding  temperament,  he  now  resolved  to  become 
uncontrolled  master  of  his  own  actions.  Admonition  had 
not  been  wanting.  In  vain  did  the  parents  conjure  him  to 
"  ponder  the  paths  of  his  feet," — in  vain  did  the  tender 
yearnings  of  a  sister's  affection  implore  him,  with  "  tears 
such  as  angels  weep,"  to  redeem  his  reputation  from  the 
aspersions  already  accumulating  like  blight  and  mildew  on 
the  fair  fruits  of  summer.  Stung  by  remorse  for  his 
neglect  of  duty,  Mr.  Dumont  now  resolved  to  try  the 
expedient  of  addressing  him  an  affectionate  letter,  inform- 
ing him  of  a  slight  amendment  in  his  brother,  but  intended 
chiefly  as  a  medium  for  such  counsel  as  might  exert  a  salu- 
tary influence,  without  betraying  any  suspicion  of  the  good 
standing  of  this  wayward  son  in  the  Institution.  He  also 
desired  him  to  defer  coming  home  a-while,  or  until  sent 
for,  to  avoid  the  danger  of  a  relapse  in  Augustus'  disease, 
which  would  inevitably  prove  fatal.  Weeks  passed,  and 
nothing  was  heard  from  George.  What  impression  would 
a  visit  from  his  father  be  likely  to  make?  This,  and 
a  thousand  other  expedients,  occupied  the  mind  of  Mr. 
Dumont  from  day  to  day.  Could  he  be  persuaded  that 
his  father  was  his  best  friend,  his  wisest  counsellor,  he 
would  turn  away  and  escape  the  abyss  of  destruction,  on 
the  brink  of  which  he  was  now  madly  sporting.  But  the 
crisis  in  the  fate  of  the  eldest  prop  of  the  Dumont  name 
detained  him  at  home. 


146  THE      RECLAIM  ED. 

Augustus  was  now  no  more.  The  struggle  was  over,  and 
his  quiet  spirit,  in  passing,  breathed  a  holy,  fervent  prayer 
for  the  welfare,  the  reformation  of  his  absent  yet  beloved 
brother.  After  the  funeral  obsequies,  and  the  last  sadly- 
pleasing  tribute  of  affection  was  paid  to  the  ashes  of  the 
deceased,  Mr.  Dumont  received  a  letter  from  his  son 
George,  informing  him  that,  for  reasons  best  known  to  him- 
self, he  had  left  college  soon  after  the  receipt  of  his  letter. 
He  also  added,  that  the  wide  world  was  but  one  vast  field 
for  enterprise  ;  and  it  was  uncertain  when  his  affairs  would 
lead  him  in  the  direction  of  home.  The  health  of  Juliette 
had  suffered  much  from  the  anxiety  and  confinement  of  her 
brother's  sick  room ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  change  of 
scene  would  be  the  best  prescription. 

Her  friend,  Miss  Morton,  was  also  preparing  for  a  trip 
to  the  north,  where  she  expected  to  spend  some  months 
with  a  near  relative  of  her  mother.  After  an  absence  of  a 
few  weeks,  Juliette  returned  to  her  home,  much  improved  in 
spirits,  and  consequently  better  qualified  for  the  difficult 
task  of  beguiling  both  parents  of  their  hearts'  anguish. 
But  what  pen  can  describe,  or  what  imagination  conceive, 
the  mingled  emotions  with  which,  after  an  absence  of  eleven 
months,  the  afflicted  parents  beheld  the  return  of  their 
repentant  son !  They  stopped  not  for  humiliation  on  the 
part  of  the  son ;  but,  seizing  each  a  hand,  hesitated  not  to 
give  the  unerring  token  of  the  existence  of  that  principle 
which  is  stronger  than  death.  Dropping  on  one  knee,  and 
unable  to  resist  the  tide  of  emotion  which  now  swelled  his 
heart  almost  to  bursting,  he  could  only  falter  out,  "  My 


THE      RECLAIM ED.  147 

father  !  O  my  mother !"  This  reception  anmanned  the 
haughty  spirit  of  Dumont,  but  recovering  a  moment's  com- 
posure, and  hastily  dashing  aside  a  tear,  he  inquired  for 
Juliette,  who,  that  instant  approaching  with  open  arms, 
gave  him  welcome  with  a  fond  sister's  embrace. 

He  brought  nothing  with  him  except  a  large  scroll,  which 
none  was  permitted  to  unroll.  Intemperance  had  left 
visible  tokens  of  an  encounter  on  the  countenance  of  George, 
which  naught  but  Time's  effacing  fingers  could  obliterate. 

Two  years  after  the  events  above  narrated,  as  Juliette 
and  Louise  sat  one  morning  discussing  a  cup  of  old  Java, 
in  the  absence  of  George,  "  Tell  me,  dear  sister,"  said 
Juliette,  in  a  tone  of  earnest  entreaty,  "  are  you  the 
magician  who  was  the  means  of  reclaiming  my  unfortunate, 
yet  most  FORTUNATE  brother?"  She  hastily  exclaimed, 
"  Pardon  my  vanity  if  I  confess  to  you  I  am ;  and  the 
circumstances,  which  are  briefly  these,  need  no  further  con- 
cealment. We  met  at  a  public  table,  and  a  single  glance 
told  me  he  was  your  absent  brother.  He  was  surrounded 
by  merry  companions,  one  or  two  of  whom  were  slightly 
known  to  my  uncle.  Whether  he  remembered  once  seeing 
me  at  your  father's,  or  whether  a  look  of  recognition 
escaped  me,  I  venture  not  to  say.  But  two  days  after,  he 
was  introduced  into  the  family  of  my  uncle  by  one  of  the 
gentlemen.  At  the  name  of  Dumont,  I  involuntarily 
extended  my  hand ;  mutual  recognition  and  explanation 
took  place.  Subsequent  visits  gave  room  for  introducing 
general  topics  of  discussion,  and  will  you  not  wonder  at  my 
temerity  in  bringing  up  the  subject  of  temperance?  His 


148  THE     RECLAIMED. 

iincnts  were  then  the  reverse  of  mine.  The  day  of  my 
departure  for  home  was  fixed,  and  he  came  to  bid  farewell. 
My  mind  had  long  been  revolving  the  propriety  of  forming 
a  female  society  for  the  promotion  of  temperance.  The 
interest  I  felt  in  the  undertaking  induced  me  to  employ 
what  time  I  could  spare  in  executing  a  suitable  banner  for 
such  a  society,  which  was  just  now  completed,  and  this 
was  the  device :  on  the  centre  sat  a  female  figure,  holding 
the  olive  branch  in  the  right  hand,  while  the  left  was  rest- 
ing across  the  shoulders  of  a  lamb.  The  emblem  of  Con- 
stancy was  hovering  above  her  head  ;  and  it  bore  the  follow- 
ing inscription :  '  Total  Abstinence — the  passport  to  the 
hearts  of  the  Virtuous  and  the  Fair.'  As  we  were  about 
to  part,  I  saw  him  pencilling  something  on  a  slip  of  paper. 
He  passed  it  into  my  hand,  and  I  read  the  following  lines 
from  Moore : 

*  Would  we  had  never,  never  met ! 
Or  could  this  heart  e'en  now  forget, 
How  linked,  how  blest  we  might  have  been, 
Had  Fate  not  frowned  so  dark  between  !' 

f  returning  it,  I  placed  that  secret  scroll  in  his 
hand.     The  sequel  I  nec-i  not  repeat." 

NBW  YORK. 


MIRTHARESSA.  149 


BY     J.      B.      MURPHY. 

[In  the  *  llowing  lines  the  author  has  endeavored  to  embrace  the  spirit  of  a 
superstition  existing  in  a  certain  section  of  New  York  State,  near  the  head  of  the 
river  Delaware.  The  circumstances,  as  related  to  him,  were  so  singular  in  their 
detail,  and,  withal,  so  beautiful  in  theory,  that,  after  many  years,  he  has  adopted 
the  present  form  in  which  to  preserve  a  feeble  portion  of  their  interest] 

I. 

WHEW  the  summer  days  were  over,  ana  the  waving  fields  of  grain 
Rolled  their  golden-crested  billows  o'er  prolific  hill  and  plain ; 
And  enamored  breeses  revelled  *mid  the  ripened  sweets  of  earth, 
And  wooed  the  sober  Autumn  into  joyousness  and  mirth ; 
Along  the  gladsome  river,  and  beside  the  laughing  rill, 
And  above  the  forest,  sleeping  in  its  grandeur  'neath  the  hill, 
Fell  a  mellow  shower  of  sunlight,  while  a  thousand  odors  sweet 
Sprang  up  from  opening  flow'rets,  loosed  by  touch  c  f  fairy  feet ; — 

Strayed  a  maiden  in  the  sunlight,  through  the  forest,  'neath  the  hill, 
And  along  the  gladsome  river,  and  beside  the  laughing  rill ; — 
Strayed  a  maiden  young  and  beautiful ;  so  beautiful,  I  ween, 
That  hourii  in  their  revels  might  have  welcomed  her  a  queen  ! 
0  !  her  step  was  light  and  fearless,  as  she  wandered  through  the  grove, 
And  her  features  were  so  peerless,  and  her  eye  so  full  of  love, 
That  she  seemed  a  spirit-messenger,  to  mortals  only  given 
As  a  prototype  of  beings  who  are  made  to  people  Heaven ! 


150  MIRTHARESSA. 

Peerless,  faithful  MIRTHARESSA,  from  the  morning's  early  gray, 
'Till,  in  golden  vestments  shrouded,  sank  to  rest  the  weary  day, 
Did  she  watch  the  winding  pathway, — mute  and  tearless  did  she  yearn 
To  catch  the  coming  footsteps  of  the  absent  one's  return  ! 
Peerless,  faithful  MIRTHARESSA  !  peerless  in  her  spirit's  might, 
Which  hoped  on  through  the  weary  day,  and  midst  the  sleepless  night- 
Faithful  to  a  voice  which  whispered — whispered  but  to  her  alone, 
Coming  joys,  which  echoed  ever  to  the  joyous  moments  flown  ! 


Where  a  mighty  oak  was  towering,  like  a  giant  forest  king, 

Near  a  rock  where  gushed  the  waters  of  a  murmuring  crystal  spring, 

Came  the  Maiden  MIRTHARESSA,  and  the  breeds  lent  their  breath 

To  mingle  with  her  warblings  in  a  melody  of  death ! 

Never  more  in  life  she  wandered  through  the  forest  'neath  the  hill, 

And  her  eye  no  more  was  beaming,  and  her  voice  for  aye  was  still ; 

For  a  strange  and  mystic  power  bore  her  spirit  from  its  throne,— 

No  roioe  had  answered  to  her  dream— a  dream  of  HIM  alone  ! 

n. 

When  midnight's  ebon  shadows  o'er  the  wide  cerulean  crept, 
And  the  silvery  moon  in  sadness  from  her  queenly  circuit  swept, 
And  the  trembling  stars  looked  tearful  in  their  mystic  depths  profound, 
And  the  startled  breezes  quavered  with  a  lowly  mournful  sound ; 
Through  the  drear  and  silent  arches  of  an  autumn  forest,  where 
It  bends  in  lowly  grandeur  o'er  the  crystal  Delaware ; 
— Not  crystal  there,  for  fearfully  its  black  and  silent  way 
Steals*  on,  while  arching  branches  hide  each  faint  and  struggling  ray— 

Through  these  arches  grim  and  silent,  where  the  wolf  unsleeping 

prowled, 

And  unnumbered  ghostly  phantoms  at  unnumbered  phantoms  scowled, 
By  the  pale  and  wanful  glimmer  of  unearthly  tapers'  light, 
Gliding — flickering  slowly  onward — o'er  the  murky  plain  of  night, 


MIRTHARESSA.  151 

Came  a  spirit  form  all  beautiful,  with  queen-like  peerless  brow, 
And  her  step  was  proud  but  noiseless  in  its  measured  pace,  and  slow  ; 
And  her  eye  shone  mild  and  tearful,  in  the  wan  and  sickly  glare 
Of  the  pale  unearthly  tapers,  as  they  glimmered  round  her  there. 

Like  the  visions  of  a  dreamer — like  the  poet's  wild  ideal, 
That  floods  the  bursting  brain  with  thoughts  and  images  unreal — 
Came  the  form  of  MIRTHARESSA  ! — in  the  midnight  watches  there 
Came  the  form  of  MIRTHARESSA,  spirit  beautiful  and  fair — 
Where  a    gnarled  and   dying   trunklet,  lightning-blasted — tempest- 
riven — 

That  in  its  ruin  courted  still  the  clouded  dome  of  heaven, 
Stood  in  grim-like  desolation  in  the  silent  murky  night — 
Came  the  form  of  MIRTHARESSA,  by  unearthly  taper's  light ! 


While  the  yellow  Autumn  lingers  o'er  the  forest  and  the  hill, 
Along  the  gladsome  river,  and  beside  the  laughing  rill ; 
When  the  curtains  of  the  midnight  steal  athwart  the  even's  gleam, 
And  the  Moon  is  veiled  in  sadness,  and  the  Stars  all  tearful  seem  ; 
Through  the  arches  grim  and  silent,  by  unearthly  taper's  light, 
MOVES  THIS  SPIRIT  FORM  or  BEAUTY  THROUGH  THE  WATCHES  of 

THE  NIGHT; — 

In  life  did  MIRTHARESSA  struggle  on  against  despair ; 
In  death  she  resteth  never,  hoping  still  to  meet  HIM  there  ! 

PHILADELPHIA,  May,  1851 


162  THE     WEDDING. 


Hi  ARTS,  so  lately  mingled,  seem 

Like  broken  clouds— or  like  the  stream 

That  smiling  left  the  mountain's  brow, 

As  though  its  waters  ne'er  could  sever, 

Tet,  ere  it  reach  the  plain  below, 

Breaks  into  floods  that  part  forever. — LALLA  ROOKH. 

THERE  was  a  splendid  wedding  at  St.  George's,  Hanover 
Square.  All  the  "pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance"  of 
aristocratic  life  seemed  brought  together  to  grace  the  occa- 
sion ;  and  well  worthy  of  all  the  homage  that  rank  and 
wealth  could  pay  was  the  reigning  divinity  of  the  day.  So 
fine,  so  noble,  were  the  face  and  figure  of  the  bride, — so 
proudly  serene  did  she  appear  under  the  consciousness  of 
the  lasting  happiness  which  that  day  secured  to  her,  that 
the  most  careless  eye  could  not  but  follow  her  with  admira- 
tion. As  she  moved  along  the  aisle  and  down  the  steps 
with  a  stately,  measured  tread,  her  dreamy  orbs  gazed  down 
the  long,  bright,  flowery  vista  which  opened  to  her  mental 
view,  and  she  saw  not  the  gaping  crowds  that  noted  her 
with  such  prying  curiosity.  Gaze  on,  fair  bride !  enjoy  thy 
brilliant  day-dream  while  thou  mayst ; — a  hideous  spectre 
is  about  to  start  ux>  from  amidst  the  roses,  and  wither  them 
forever ! 


THE     WEDDING.  158 

She  is  in  the  carriage ;  her  husband  takes  his  place  beside 
her,  a  triumphant  smile  curling  his  mustachioed  lip.  The 
word  is  given,  and  away  start  the  mettlesome  steeds,  as 
though  conscious  of  their  honored  freight.  But  then  there 
was  a  sudden  pulling  up,  and  a  wild  cry  of  affright  from  all 
the  spectators.  And  there  was  within  the  carriage  a  sensa- 
tion of  the  fore  wheel  passing  over  some  dull  object  and 
back  again,  and  then  forward  again,  as  the  spirited  horses 
reared  and  plunged.  But  vigorous  and  practised  hands 
seized  and  held  them  still,  and  in  a  few  seconds  a  squalid 
and  ragged  woman  was  dragged  from  between  the  wheels, 
still  convulsively  holding  an  infant  to  her  breast.  The 
countenance  of  this  poor  creature  bore  traces  of  great 
beauty,  though  prematurely  withered  by  sorrow  and  priva- 
tion, and  now  sharpened  by  agony,  jjpr  it  was  over  her  leg 
that  the  wheel  had  passed  three  times.  As  they  raised  her 
she  looked  eagerly  into  the  carriage,  and  her  features 
wreathed  into  a  smile  of  awful  meaning  as  her  eyes  met 
those  of  the  bridegroom. 

"  Oh,  heaven !"  exclaimed  the  pallid  bride,  "  what  a 
terrific  accident  to  happen  on  this  day!"  But  then  she 
caught  that  smile  of  mysterious  import,  *nd  turning  to  her 
husband  for  its  interpretation,  she  beheld  him  cowering 
down,  his  face  hidden  in  his  hands,  and  looking  as  though 
he  would  willingly  creep  beneath  the  cushions  to  hide  his 
shame  and  guilt. 

Under  some  circumstances,  that  which  a  long  train  of 
calm  argument  would  fail  to  prove  to  the  unwilling  senses 
is  thrust  upon  the  mind  with  all  the  force  of  a  primal 


154  THEWEDDING. 

truth.  So  it  was  with  the  unhappy  lady, — she  dared  not 
indulge  the  luxury  of  a  doubt;  her  edifice  of  joy  which 
seemed  so  strong  was  based  upon  a  quicksand.  Her  whx>le 
soul,  however,  was  one  tissue  of  lofty  and  generous  feeling. 
She  leaned  forward,  so  as  'to  hide  the  renegade  from  the 
eyes  of  the  crowd,  and  giving  her  purse  to  one  of  her  foot- 
men, she  said,  in  a  firm  voice,  "  Take  this — see  her  to  an 
hospital,  and  let  her  child  be  placed  with  some  suitable  per- 
son. I  will  be  answerable  for  every  expense.  See  that 
she  has  every  comfort." 

"My  days  are  numbered  I  think,  lady,"  said  the 
wounded  woman,  raising  herself  on  the  stretcher  which  had 
been  brought  already,  "  Pm  sure  my  days  are  numbered, 
but  the  child " 

"  Rest  perfectly  satisfied,"  returned  the  broken-hearted 
bride,  "  I  will  never  abandon  it.  It  shall  never  know 
want.  Now  drive  on." 

She  leaned  back,  exhausted  by  her  own  feelings.  As 
the  carriage  moved  on,  her  husband  sat  upright,  glancing 
at  times  uneasily  towards  her. 

"  Do  not  fear  reproaches,  my  lord,"  said  she ;  "  they 
would  be  useless  now,  and  I  shall  not  indulge  in  them.  I 
am  your  wife,  and,  as  in  duty  bound,  I  shall  endeavor  to 
conceal  your  crime " 

"  Crime !"  he  repeated,  in  a  tone  of  virtuous  indignation ; 
"  why,  surely,  Leonora,  you  would  not  stigmatise  a  little 
peccadillo  as  a  crime  ;  why,  the  world  does  not  blame " 

"  Stay,  stay,  my  lord,"  she  interrupted,  bitterly,  "  I 
cannot  suppose  that  you  would  have  me  take  for  my  rule  of 


THEWEDDING.  155 

morals  the  code  prevalent  among  your  club-houses.  Make 
no  attempt  to  justify  yourself,  and  I  will  say  nothing  of  the 
pinnacle  of  trusting  happiness  from  which  I  have  been  so 
rudely  dashed." 

"  Indeed,  my  dearest  love,  it  is  very  shocking  that  this 
accident  should  have  happened  to-day ;  but  you  cannot 
imagine  that  I  knew  to  what  destitution  that  unfortunate 
woman  was  reduced " 

"  Unfortunate  woman !"  she  interrupted,  with  kindling 
cheeks ;  how  came  she  to  be  unfortunate  ?  What  was  she 
when  you  first  saw  her  ?  Not  tne  squalid  thing  she  is 
to-day ;  it  requires  little  judgment  to  be  sure  of  that.  And 
that  child,  too ;  from  whence  may  it  date  its  misfortunes, 
if  not  from  the  commencement  of  the  existence  with  which 
you  have  cursed  it?" 

"  But  you  don't  suppose  the  child — i-" 

"  I  suppose  nothing,  sir ;  I  speak  only  of  that  which  I  am 
sure  of.  That  poor  creature  was  no  common  hireling,  or 
her  beauty  would  have  saved  her  from  starvation.  I  entreat 
you  once  again,  my  lord,"  she  added,  her  eyes  flashing  with 
suppressed  anger,  "  not  to  endeavor  to  justify  yourself  by 
throwing  the  burden  of  your  guilt  upon  innocent  shoulders. 
God  knows  I  have  already  enough  to  make  me  wretched, 
without  being  compelled  to  add  epithets  to  grace  my  hus- 
band on  our  wedding-day.  If  you  please,  we  will  both  be 
silent  on  this  subject  henceforward." 

He  signified  his  acquiescence  by  an  inclination  of  the 
head,  and  not  a  word  was  uttered  during  the  remainder  of 
the  drive. 


T  H  E      \V  £  D  D  I  N  G  . 


At  breakfast,  where  only  about  a  hundred  of  the  most 
intimate  friends  of  the  two  families  were  present,  the  acci- 
dent which  had  happened  as  they  left  the  church  was 
quickly  known,  and  the  altered  appearance  of  the  bride  was 
attributed  to  the  consequent  nervous  agitation  ;  for  the 
bridegroom,  as  may  be  easily  believed,  did  not  volunteer  to 
enlighten  them. 

If  the  forsaken  victims  of  man's  perfidy  were  always 
thus  to  make  a  Juggernaut's  car  of  his  wedding  equipage, 
how  often  would  the  noblest  and  purest  of  our  high-born 
maidens  find  that  they  had  placed  their  stainless  hands  in 
those  of  miscreants  whose  betters  often  occupy  the  felon's 
cell! 

M.  A.  B. 


A   XHOVftXX. 

0 !  'TI»  the  penalty  we  pay, 

In  this  frail  world  of  ours, 

To  find  that  hues  which  soonest  fade 

Are  born  of  sweetest  flowers ! 

The  brightest  clouds  an  ardent  eye 

With  rapture  gazes  on, 

Are  only  seen  in  evening  sky, — 

We  look — and  they  are  gone ! 


APOLOGY      TO      THE      LADIES.  167 


SAXIHD'S  3I38&SX  AI'DIOBT  SO 
2313  2A3I3I. 

AGREEABLY  to  the  tenets  of  our  order,  the  fair  sex  are 
excluded  from  associating  with  us  in  our  mystic  profession ; 
not  because  they  are  deemed  unworthy  of  the  secret,  "  nor 
because  the  mechanical  tools  of  the  craft  are  too  ponderous 
for  them  to  wield,"  but  from  a  consciousness  of  our  own 
weakness.  Should  they  be  permitted .  to  enter  the  lodge, 
love  would  oftentimes  enter  with  them,  jealousy  would  pro- 
bably rankle  in  the  hearts  of  the  brethren,  and  fraternal 
affection  be  perverted  into  rivalship.  Although  the  most 
amiable  and  lovely  part  of  nature's  works  are  excluded 
from  our  meetings,  yet  our  order  protects  them  from  the 
attacks  of  vicious  and  unprincipled  men.  It  forbids  us  to 
sacrifice  the  ease  and  peace  of  families  for  a  momentary 
gratification ;  and  it  forbids  us  to  undermine  and  take  away 
that  transcendent  happiness  from  those  whose  hearts  are 
united  by  the  bond  of  sincere  affection. 

The  feelings  of  women  are  more  exquisitely  fine,  and 
their  generous  sympathy  is  more  easily  awakened,  by  the 
misfortunes  of  their  fellow-creatures,  than  the  stronger  sex. 
The  soft  tear  of  pity  bedews  their  cheeks  at  the  tale  of  wo, 
and  their  gentle  bosoms  heave  with  tender  emotions  at  the 


168          SPIRITUAL     APPKENTICE     S     SONG. 

sight  of  human  wretchedness.  They  require  not  the  adven- 
titious aid  of  mystic  institutions  to  urge  them  to  acts  of 
charity  and  benevolence,  nor  the  use  of  symbols  to  lead 
them  to  virtue.  Their  own  hearts  are  the  lodges  in  which 
virtue  presides ;  and  the  dictates  of  her  will  is  their  only 
incentive  to  action. 


THERE  is  a  world — the  world  of  mind — 
By  neither  time  nor  space  confined  ; 
And  when  we  cease  in  flesh  to  dwell, 
That  world  will  be  our  heaven  or  hell. 
By  fallen  nature,  'tis,  alas  ! 
A  rude,  chaotic,  shapeless  mass ; 
Devoid  of  goodness,  truth,  or  light, 
And  veiled  in  blackest  shades  of  night. 

But/He  who  gave  creation  birth 

Can  re-create  this  mental  earth ; 

For  this  His  Spirit,  like  a  dove, 

Broods  o'er  our  secret  thoughts  in  love. 

If  we  consent  to  be  renewed, 

And  wish  our  evil  lusts  subdued, 

"  Let  there  be  light,"  He  says,  and  straight 

We  see  our  low  disordered  state. 

Then  do  we  se>k  to  know*  the  Lord, 
Receive  instruction  from  his  word  ; 
While  He  divides  the  day  from  night, 
And  we  proceed  from  shade  to  light. 
Lord  !  let  thy  Spirit,  like  a  dove, 
Brood  over  all  our  souls  in  love ; 
Then  give  tu  light,  our  state  to  see, 
And  we  will  give  the  praise  to  Thee 


JOSHUA.  159 


ItSKVA. 

AND  Joshua  wrote  these  words  in  the  book  of  the  law  of 
God,  and  took  a  great  stone,  and  set  it  up  there  under  an 
oak,  that  was  by  the  sanctuary  of  the  Lord.  And  Joshua 
said  unto  all  the  people,  "  Behold,  this  stone  shall  be  a  wit- 
ness unto  us ;  for  it  hath  heard  all  the  words  of  the  Lord 
which  he  spake  unto  us  :  it  shall  be,  therefore,  a  witness 
unto  you,  lest  ye  deny  your  God." 

The  stone  which  the  builders  refused  is  become  the  head- 
stone  of  the  corner. 

Therefore,  thus  saith  the  Lord  God,  "  Behold  I  lay  in 
Zion,  for  a  foundation,  a  stone,  a  tried  stone,  a  precious 
corner-stone,  a  sure  foundation.  He  that  believeth  shall 
not  make  haste." 

A  new  heart  also  will  I  give  you  ;  and  a  new  spirit  will 
I  put  within  you  :  and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out 
of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give  you  an  heart  of  flesh. 

Then  he  brought  me  back  by  the  way  of  the  gate  of  the 
outward  sanctuary  which  looketh  toward  the  east,  and  it 
was  shut. 

It  is  for  the  prince  ;  the  prince,  he  shall  sit  in  it  to  eat 
bread  before  the  Lord ;  he  shall  enter  by  the  way  of  the 
porch  of  that  gate,  and  shall  go  out  by  the  way  of  the  same. 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  "  Son  of  man,  mark  well, 
and  behold  with  thine  eyes,  and  hear  with  thine  ears  all 


100  JOSHUA. 


that  I  say  unto  thee,  concerning  all  the  ordinances  of  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  and  all  the  laws  thereof;  and  mark 
well  the  entering  in  of  the  house,  with  every  going  forth  of 
the  sanctuary." 

And  did  ye  never  read  in  the  scriptures,  "  The  stone 
which  the  builders  rejected,  the  same  is  become  the  head  of 
the  corner  ?  This  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous 
in  our  eyes." 

And  have  ye  not  read  this  scripture,  "  The  stone  which 
the  builders  rejected  is  become  the  head  of  the  corner  ?" 

This  is  the  stone  which  was  set  at  nought  of  you  builders, 
which  is  become  the  head  of  the  corner. 

And  he  beheld  them,  and  said,  "  What  is  this  then  that 
is  written,  '  The  stone  which  the  builders  rejected,  the 
same  is  become  the  head  of  the  corner  V  " 

He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear :  To  him  that  over- 
cometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  hidden  manna,  and  will 
give  him  a  white  stone,  and  in  the  stone  a  new  name 
written,  which  no  man  knoweth,  saving  he  that  receiveth  it. 

The  white  stone,  and  in  the  stone  a  new  name  written, 
indicates  two  ancient  customs,  to  either  of  which  this  might 
allude ;  the  one  is  that  which  was  observed  by  judges,  in 
giving  their  suffrages  by  white  and  black  pebbles ;  those 
who  gave  the  former  were  for  absolving  the  culprit-  those 
who  gave  the  latter  were  for  his  condemnation 


AN      OLD     MANUSCRIPT.  161 


AI   BIU 


[The  two  following  article*  we  have  found  in  manuscript,  bound  up  in  a  volume 
nearly  one  hundred  year*  old.    We  copy  them  verbatim  et  /fterofuw.— ED.] 


THE  PORTRAITURE  OR  CHARACTER  OF  A  TRUE 
FREE  MASON. 

HE  is  to  contemplate  the  Precepts  of  Religion  and  Phi- 
losophy— His  moral  Conduct  is  to  be  correspondent  to  the 
most  exalted  Sentiments  of  Virtue — By  the  Aid  of  the 
Torch  of  Truth,  which  enlightens  his  Steps,  he  is  to  be 
prudent  in  all  his  Actions,  temperate  in  all  his  Pleasures  ; 
his  Fidelity  is  to  be  inviolable,  and  his  justice  incorruptible 
— He  is  to  admire  Virtue  in  his  Brethren,  believe  them  his 
Equals  because  they  are  Men,  share  their  Pains,  partici- 
pate their  Ills  and  lend  a  beneficent  Hand  in  Time  of 
Want,  to  conceal  no  Impostures  in  the  intricate  Mazes  of  a 
false  Heart,  to  speak  ingenuously,  and  to  act  with  Candour, 
Goodness  and  Affability  seated  on  his  Brow ;  to  despise  all 
affected  Disdain  the  Offspring  of  Pride,  that  would  mark 
out  Distinctions  among  Mankind,  to  be  ready  to  forgive 
Injuries,  without  offending  any,  to  cherish  Goodness,  and 
detest  nougbt  but  Vice ;  to  be  simple  in  his  Manners,  easy 


162  AN     OLD     MANUSCRIPT. 

in  his  Behaviour,  affable  in  Society,  a  faithful  Subject  and 
a  constant  Friend,  knowing  how  to  temper  the  Austerity  of 
Wisdom,  with  chaste  Voluptuousness. 

A    MASONIC    HYMN. 

HAIL,  sacred  Masonry  !  great  Source  of  human  Happi- 
ness and  Perfection.  Thou  art  the  Power  of  pleasing 
Society — Thou  makest  us  to  sit  down  with  Kings  and 
Princes — Thou  exaltest  him  that  is  low,  and  abasest  him 
that  is  high.  O  Continue  to  animate  us  thy  faithful  Chil- 
dren, with  that  glorious  Ambition  which  of  old  inspired  thy 
Votaries,  when  they  reared  thy  Trophies  to  the  Clouds — 
Thou  peaceful  Goddess !  lived  with  Astraea  in  the  Golden 
Age  of  Mankind — 0  let  not  the  Contempt  of  the  Prophane 
induce  thee  likewise,  to  abandon  a  World  unworthy  of  thy 
inestimable  Mysteries — If  we  forget  thee  0  Masonry!  let 
our  right  Hands  forget  their  Cunning — If  we  do  not  remem- 
ber thee,  let  our  Tongues  cleave  to  the  Roof  of  our  Mouth ; 
if  we  prefer  not  Masonry  above  our  chief  Joy — 0  thou 
mysterious  Divinity  of  the  Square  and  Compass  !  whether 
thou  delightest  in  the  holy  Lodge  of  St.  John,  or  that  of 
Kilwinnin  be  thy  peculiar  Care,  thou  art  worshipped  in  a 
Thousand  Temples,  the  Work  of  thy  faithful  Builders — 
Thy  Kingdom  extendeth  from  the  orient  Sun,  to  where  he 
sets  in  the  immense  Atlantic — In  the  Infancy  of  Time  thou 
arose  and  coeval  with  Time  shalt  thou  endure — Hail 
sacred  Masonry !  great  Source  of  human  Happiness  and 
Perfection. 

B.  HILTON 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  133 


(•VVSBK: 


[N   SEVERAL  CHARGES,  DELIVERED  IN  REGULAR  LODGES, 
ON  VARIOUS  OCCASIONS. 


A     CH  ARO-E, 

Delivered  on  the  occasion  of  a  Meeting  of  Freemasons  for  the 
Distribution  of  Charity. 

BY     THOMAS     DUNCKERLY. 

BRETHREN  :  It  is  with  the  greatest  satisfaction  I  meet 
you  here  in  the  cause  of  charity.  Charity  is  the  basis  of 
our  Order.  Lodges  are  now  held  on  every  part  of  this 
globe,  and  charities  are  collected  and  sent  to  the  respective 
grand  lodge  of  each  kingdom  or  state.  There  the  distressed 
brethren  apply  and  find  relief ;  nor  is  any  exception  made 
•/)  difference  of  country  or  religion. 

For,  as  in  the  sight  of  God  we  are  all  equally  his  chil- 
dren, having  the  same  common  parent  and  preserver,  so  we, 
in  like  manner,  look  on  every  Freemason  as  our  brother ; 
nor  regard  where  he  was  born  or  educated,  provided  he  is  a 
good  man,  an  honest  man,  which  is  "  the  noblest  work  of 
God." 

A  laudable  custom  prevailed  among  our  ancient  brethren ; 
after  they  had  sent  their  donation:}  to  the  general  charities, 


164  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

they  considered  the  distresses  of  those  in  particular  that 
resided  in  their  respective  neighborhoods,  and  assisted  them 
with  such  a  sum  as  could  be  conveniently  spared  from  the 
lodge.  In  humble  imitation  of  this  Masonic  principle,  I 
recommend  the  present  charity  to  your  consideration ;  to 
which  you  readily  and  unanimously  consent.  The  sum  is, 
indeed,  but  small ;  yet,  I  hope,  as  the  widow's  mite  was 
acceptable,  this  act  of  ours  will  be  considered,  not  with 
respect  to  the  sum,  but  the  principles  by  which  we  are 
influenced. 

I  have  told  you  in  the  lodge,  and  I  repeat  it  now,  that 
Brotherly  Love,  Relief  and  Truth,  are  the  grand  principles 
of  Masonry,  and  as  the  principal  part  of  the  company  are 
unacquainted  with  the  original  intention  of  this  society,  it 
may  be  proper  for  their  information,  and  your  instruction, 
that  I  explain  those  principles  by  which  it  is  our  duty  in 
particular  to  be  actuated. 

By  brotherly  love  we  are  to  understand  that  generous 
principle  of  the  soul,  which  respects  the  human  species  as 
one  family,  created  by  an  all-wise  Being,  and  placed  on  this 
globe  for  the  mutual  assistance  of  each  other.  It  is  this 
attractive  principle  or  power  that  draws  men  together  and 
unites  them  in  bodies  politic,  families,  societies,  and  the 
various  orders  and  denominations  among  men.  But  as 
most  of  these  are  partial,  contracted,  or  confined  to  a  par- 
ticular country,  religion,  or  opinion,  our  Order,  on  the 
contrary,  is  calculated  to  unite  mankind  as  one  family; 
high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  one  with  another  ;  to  adore  the 
same  God,  and  observe  his  law.  Every  worthy  member  of 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  165 

this  society  is  free  to  visit  every  lodge  in  the  world ;  and 
though  he  knows  not  the  language  of  the  country,  yet  by 
a  silent  universal  language  of  our  own,  he  will  gain  admit- 
tance, and  find  that  true  friendship  which  flows  from  the 
brotherly  love  I  am  now  describing. 

At  that  peaceable  and  harmonious  meeting  he  will  hear 
no  disputes  concerning  religion  or  politics ;  no  swearing ; 
no  obscene,  immoral,  or  ludicrous  discourse  ;  no  other  con- 
tention but  who  can  work  best,  who  can  agree  best. 

To  subdue  our  passions,  and  improve  in  useful  scientific 
knowledge ;  to  instruct  the  younger  brethren,  and  initiate 
the  unenlightened,  are  principal  duties  in  the  lodge.  Let 
me  travel  from  east  to  west,  or  between  north  and  south, 
when  I  meet  a  true  brother  I  shall  find  a  friend,  who  will 
do  all  in  his  power  to  serve  me,  without  having  the  least 
view  of  self-interest.  And  if  I  am  p«or  and  in  distress,  he 
will  relieve  me  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  interest  and 
capacity.  This  is  the  second  grand  principle :  for  relief 
will  follow  where  there  is  brotherly  love. 

I  have  already  mentioned  our  general  charities  as  they 
are  at  present  conducted ;  it  remains  now  that  I  consider 
particular  donations  given  from  private  lodges,  either  to 
those  that  are  not  Masons  or  to  a  brother  in  distress.  And 
first,  with  respect  to  a  charity  like  this  befrre  us  ;  perhaps 
it  is  better  to  be  distributed  in  small  sums,  that  more  may 
receive  the  benefit,  than  to  give  it  in  larger  sums,  which 
would  confine  it  to  few. 

With  regard  to  a  brother  in  distress,  who  should  happen 
to  apply  to  this  lodge,  or  any  particular  member,  for  relief, 


166  MASONIC      COUNSEL. 

it  is  necessary  that  I  inform  you  in  what  manner  you  are  to 
receive  him.  And  here  I  cannot  help  regretting,  that  such 
is  the  depravity  of  the  human  heart,  there  is  no  religion  or 
society  free  from  bad  professors,  or  unworthy  members,  for 
as  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  read  the  heart  of  man,  the  best- 
regulated  societies  may  be  imposed  on  by  the  insinuations 
of  the  artful,  and  hypocrisy  of  the  abandoned.  It  should, 
therefore,  by  no  means  lessen  the  dignity  and  excellency  of 
the  royal  craft,  because  it  is  our  misfortune  to  have  bad 
men  among  us,  any  more  than  the  purity  and  holiness  of 
the  Christian  religion  should  be  doubted  because  too  many 
of  the  wicked  and  profligate  approach  the  holy  altar. 

Since,  therefore,  these  things  are  so,  be  careful,  whenever 
a  brother  applies  for  relief,  to  examine  strictly  whether  he 
is  worthy  of  acceptance ;  inquire  the  cause  of  his  misfor- 
tunes, and  if  you  are  satisfied  they  are  not  the  result  of 
vice  or  extravagance,  relieve  him  with  such  a  sum  as  the 
lodge  shall  think  proper,  and  assist  him  with  your  interest 
and  recommendation,  that  he  may  be  employed  according  to 
his  capacity,  and  not  eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  This  will 
be  acting  consistent  with  Truth,  which  is  the  third  grand 
principle  of  Masonry. 

Truth  is  a  divine  attribute,  and  the  foundation  of  all 
Masonic  virtues.  To  be  good  men  and  true,  is  part  of  the 
first  great  lesson  we  are  taught;  and,  at  the  commence- 
ment, we  are  exhorted  to  be  fervent  and  zealous  in  the 
practice  of  truth  and  goodness.  It  is  not  sufficient  that 
we  walk  in  the  light,  unless  we  do  the  truth.  All  hypocrisy 
and  deceit  must  be  banished  from  us.  Sincerity  and  plain 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  167 

dealing  complete  the  harmony  of  the  brethren,  within  and 
without  the  lodge ;  and  will  render  us  acceptable  in  the 
sight  of  that  great  Being,  unto  whom  all  hearts  are  open, 
all  desires  known,  and  from  whom  no  secrets  are  hid. 
There  is  a  charm  in  truth  that  draws  and  attracts  the  mind 
continually  towards  it;  the  more  we  discover,  the  more  we 
desire,  and  the  great  reward  is  wisdom,  virtue  and  happi- 
ness. This  is  an  edifice  founded  upon  a  rock,  which  malice 
cannot  shake,  or  time  destroy.  What  a  secret  satisfaction 
do  we  enjoy,  when,  in  searching  for  truth,  we  find  the  first 
principles  of  useful  science,  still  preserved  among  us,  as  we 
received  them  by  oral  tradition  from  the  earliest  ages  ;  and 
we  also  find  this  truth  corroborated  by  the  testimonies  of 
the  best  and  greatest  men  the  world  has  produced.  But 
this  is  not  all ;  the  sacred  writings  confirm  what  I  assert, 
the  sublime  part  of  our  ancient  mystery  being  there  to  be 
found ;  nor  can  any  Christian  brother  be  a  good  Mason 
that  does  not  make  the  word  of  God  his  first  and  principal 
study. 

I  sincerely  congratulate  you  on  the  happy  establishment 
of  this  lodge.  Let  wisdom  direct  you  to  contrive  for  the 
best.  Strengthen  the  cause  of  Masonry,  by  mutual  friend- 
ship, which  is  the  companion  and  support  of  fraternal  love, 
and  which  will  never  suffer  any  misunderstanding  to  inflame 
a  brother,  or  cause  him  to  behave  unbecoming  a  member  of 
our  peaceable  and  harmonious  society.  Let  us  then  resolve 
to  beautify  and  adorn  our  Order,  by  discharging  the  duties 
of  our  respective  stations,  as  good  citizens,  good  parents, 
good  husbands,  good  masters,  and  dutiful  children  ;  for  b^ 


168  MASON  1C     COUNSEL. 

so  doing,  we  shall  put  to  silence  the  reproaches  of  foolish 
men.  As  you  know  these  things,  brethren,  happy  are  ye 
if  ye  do  them. 

Let  us  consider  these  poor  persons  as  our  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  be  thankful  to  Almighty  God,  that  he  has  been 
pleased  to  make  us  his  instruments  of  affording  them  this 
small  relief ;  most  humbly  supplicating  the  Grand  Archi- 
tect of  the  Universe,  from  whom  all  holy  desires,  all  good 
counsels,  and  all  just  works  do  proceed,  to  bless  our  under- 
taking, and  grant  that  we  may  continue  to  add  some  little 
comfort  to  the  poor. 

Next  to  the  Deity,  whom  can  I  so  properly  address 
myself  to,  as  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  creation  ? 

You  have  heard,  ladies,  our  grand  principles  explained, 
with  the  instructions  given  to  the  brethren,  and  I  doubt  not 
but  at  other  times  you  have  heard  many  disrespectful  things 
said  of  this  society.  Envy,  malice  and  all  uncharitableness 
will  never  be  at  a  loss  to  decry,  find  fault,  and  raise  objec- 
tions to  what  they  do  not  know.  How  great  then  are  the 
obligations  you  lay  on  this  lodge!  With  what  superior 
esteem,  respect,  and  regard,  are  we  to  look  on  every  lady 
present  that  has  done  us  the  honor  of  her  company  this 
evening.  To  have  the  sanction  of  the  fair  is  our  highest 
ambition,  as  our  greatest  care  will  be  to  preserve  it.  The 
virtues  of  humanity  are  peculiar  to  your  sex ;  and  we  flatter 
ourselves,  the  most  splendid  ball  could  not  afford  you  greater 
pleasure,  than  to  see  the  human  heart  made  happy,  and  the 
poor  and  distressed  obtain  present  relief. 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  169 

A     CHARO-E, 
Delivered  on  the  Feast  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  AX-.  176S. 

BY      JOHN      WHITMA8H. 

WORTHY  BRETHREN  :  Providence  having  placed  me  in 
such  a  sphere  in  life,  as  to  afford  me  but  little  time  for 
speculation,  I  cannot  pretend  to  have  made  mankind  my 
particular  study ;  yet  this  I  have  observed,  that  curiosity 
is  one  of  the  most  prevailing  passions  in  the  human  breast. 
The  mind  of  man  is  kept  in  a  perpetual  thirst  after  knowl- 
edge, nor  can  he  bear  to  be  ignorant  of  what  he  thinks 
others  know.  Anything  secret  or  new  immediately  excites 
an  uneasy  sensation,  and  becomes  the  proper  fuel  of  curi- 
osity, which  will  be  found  stronger  or  weaker  in  proportion 
to  the  time  and  opportunities  that  individuals  have  for 
indulging  it.  It  is  observable  further,  that  when  this 
passion  is  excited,  and  not  instantly  gratified,  instead  of 
waiting  for  better  intelligence,  and  using  the  proper  means 
of  removing  the  darkness  that  envelops  the  object  of  it,  we 
precipitately  form  ideas  which  are  generally  in  the  extremes. 
If  the  object  promotes  pleasure  or  advantage,  we  then  load 
it  with  commendations  ;  if  it  appears  in  the  opposite  view, 
or  if  we  are  ignorant  of  it,  we  then  absurdly,  as  well  as 
disingenuously,  condemn,  and  pretend,  at  least,  to  despise 
it.  This,  my  brethren,  has  been  the  fate  of  the  most  valu- 
able institution  in  the  world,  Christianity  excepted:  I 
mean  Freemasonry.  Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the 


170  MASONIC      COUNSEL. 

nature  and  design  of  it,  cannot,  if  they  have  good  hearts, 
but  admire  and  espouse  it;  and  if  those  who  are  in  the 
dark,  or  whose  minds  are  disposed  to  evil,  should  slight  or 
speak  disrespectfully  of  it,  it  certainly  is  no  disgrace. 
When  order  shall  produce  confusion,  when  harmony  shall 
give  rise,  to  discord,  and  proportion  shall  be  the  source  of 
irregularity,  then,  and  not  till  then,  will  Freemasonry  be 
unworthy  the  patronage  of  the  great,  the  wise,  and  good. 

To  love  as  brethren,  to  be  ready  to  communicate,  to 
speak  truth  one  to  another,  are  the  dictates  of  reason  and 
revelation;  and  you  know  that  they  are  likewise  the 
foundation,  the  constituent  parts  of  Freemasonry. 

None,  therefore,  who  believe  the  divine  original  of  the 
sacred  volume,  and  are  influenced  by  a  spirit  of  humanity, 
friendship,  and  benevolence,  can  with  the  least  propriety 
object  to  our  ancient  and  venerable  institution. 

For  my  own  part,  ever  since  I  have  had  the  honor  to  be 
enrolled  in  the  list  of  Masons,  as  I  knew  it  was  my  duty,  so 
I  have  made  it  my  business  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
principles  on  which  our  glorious  superstructure  is  founded. 
And,  like  the  miner,  the  further  I  have  advanced  the  richer 
has  been  my  discovery ;  and  the  treasure  constantly  open- 
ing to  my  view  has  proved  a  full  and  satisfactory  reward 
of  all  my  labors. 

Every  association  of  men,  as  well  as  this  of  Freemasons, 
must,  for  the  sake  of  order  and  harmony,  be  regulated  by 
certain  laws,  and  for  that  purpose  proper  officers  must  be 
appointed,  and  empowered  to  carry  those  laws  into  execu- 
tion, to  preserve  a  degree  of  uniformity,  at  least  to  restrain 


MASONIC     COUNSEL.  171 

any  irregularity  that  might  render  such  associations  incon- 
sistent. For  we  may  as  reasonably  suppose  an  army  may 
be  duly  disciplined,  well  provided,  and  properly  conducted, 
without  generals  or  other  officers,  as  that  a  society  can  be 
supported  without  governors  and  their  subalterns,  or  with- 
out some  form  of  government  to  answer  the  end  of  the  insti- 
tution. And  as  such  an  arrangement  must  be  revered,  it 
becomes  a  necessary  pre-requisite  that  a  temper  should  be 
discovered  in  the  several  members  adapted  to  the  respective 
stations  they  are  to  fill. 

This  thought  will  suggest  to  you,  that  those  who  are 
qualified  to  preside  as  officers  in  a  lodge  will  not  be  elated 
with  that  honor,  but,  losing  sight  of  it,  will  have  only  in 
view  the  service  their  office  demands.  Their  reproofs  will 
be  dictated  by  friendship,  softened  by  candor,  and  enforced 
with  mildness  and  affection ;  in  the  whole  of  their  deport- 
ment they  will  preserve  a  degree  of  dignity  tempered  with 
affability  and  ease.  This  conduct,  while  it  endears  them 
to  others,  will  not  fail  to  raise  their  own  reputation,  and  as 
envy  should  not  be  so  much  as  once  named  among  Free- 
masons, it  will  effectually  prevent  the  growth  of  it,  should 
it  unfortunately  ever  appear. 

Such  is  the  nature  of  our  constitution,  that  as  some  must 
of  necessity  rule  and  teach,  so  others  must  of  course  learn 
to  obey ;  humility,  therefore,  in  both  becomes  an  essential 
duty,  for  pride  and  ambition,  like  a  worm  at  the  root  of  a 
tree,  will  prey  on  the  vitals  of  our  peace,  harmony,  and 
brotherly  love. 

Had  not  this  excellent  temper  prevailed,  when  the  foun- 


172  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

dation  of  Solomon's  temple  was  first  laid,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  glorious  edifice  would  never  have  rose  to  a  height  of 
splendor  which  astonished  the  world. 

Had  all  employed  in  this  work  been  masters,  or  supcrin- 
tendants,  who  must  have  prepared  the  timber  in  the  forest, 
or  hewn  the  stone  in  the  quarry  ?  Yet  though  they  were 
numbered  and  classed  under  different  denominations,  as 
princes,  rulers,  provosts,  comforters  of  the  people,  stone- 
quarers,  sculptors,  &c.,  such  was  their  unanimity,  that  they 
seemed  actuated  by  one  spirit,  influenced  by  one  principle. 

Merit  alone  then  entitled  to  preferment ;  an  indisputable 
instance  of  which  we  have  in  the  Deputy  Grand  Master  of 
that  great  undertaking,  who,  without  either  wealth  or 
power,  without  any  other  distinction,  than  that  of  being  the 
widow's  son,  was  appointed  by  the  Grand  Master  and 
approved  by  the  people  for  this  single  reason,  because  he 
was  a  skilful  artificer. 

Let  these  considerations,  my  worthy  brethren,  animate 
us  in  the  pursuits  of  so  noble  a  science,  that  we  may  all  be 
qualified  to  fill,  in  rotation,  the  most  distinguished  places  in 
the  lodge,  and  keep  the  honors  of  the  craft  (which  are  the 
just  rewards  of  our  labor)  in  a  regular  circulation. 

And  as  none  are  less  qualified  to  govern  than  those  who 
have  not  learnt  to  obey,  permit  me  in  the  warmest  manner 
to  recommend  to  you  all  a  constant  attendance  at  the  lodge, 
a  due  obedience  to  the  laws  of  our  institution,  and  a  respect- 
ful submission  to  the  directions  of  your  officers,  that  you 
may  prove  to  mankind  the  propriety  of  your  election,  and 
secure  the  establishment  of  this  society  to  latest  posterity. 


MASONIC     COUNSEL.  178 

AN     ADDRESS, 
On  the  Festival  of  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  A.D.  1768. 

BY     J.     8.     GAUDRY. 

WORTHY  BRETHREN  :  Would  every  brother  consider  the 
advantages  he  derives,  as  a  man,  by  being  a  Freemason, 
he  would  readily  confess,  that  the  glorious  precepts  incul- 
cated in  all  regular  lodges  are  calculated  in  the  most 
especial  manner  to  fashion  the  mind  to  goodness.  In  them 
it  is  strongly  recommended  to  us  to  cultivate  our  several 
duties  to  God,  our  neighbor,  and  ourselves.  To  have  faith 
in  God,  hope  in  salvation,  and  charity  for  all  mankind ; 
and  yet  it  must  be  confessed  there  are  some,  who  have  been 
initiated  Masons,  and  who,  to  their  eternal  shame,  not  only 
disregard  our  excellent  documents,  but  to  all  appearance 
are  little  inclined  to  regulate  their  conduct  by  them,  any 
longer  than  they  are  constrained  to  do  it  in  a  lodge ; 
when,  alas  !  the  qualifications  of  a  good  Mason  would  deco- 
rate the  crown  of  the  greatest  monarch. 

As  the  rules  of  this  fraternity  have  a  direct  tendency  to 
promote  moral  and  social  virtue,  let  us  carefully  banish 
from  our  breasts  every  inclination  and  avoid  every  practice 
that  might  obstruct  this  noble  intention,  ever  being  disposed 
to  humane  and  friendly  offices,  and  particularly  to  relieve 
the  distresses  of  indigent  brethren.  The  royal  Psalmist 
says,  in  raptures,  "  The  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to 
perish  came  upon  me,  and  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to 


J74  MASONIC      COUNSEL. 

sing  for  joy."  May  we  therefore  rejoice  in  every  oppor- 
tunity of  serving  and  obliging  each  other,  for  in  such  exer- 
cise we  answer  one  principal  end  of  our  institution. 

It  is,  and  should  be,  the  glory  of  every  member  of  a  lodge, 
that  our  well-regulated  conduct  engages  us  the  esteem  of 
every  brother  who  does  us  the  honor  of  a  visit.  We  ought 
never  to  be  wanting  in  a  cheerful  performance  of  those 
duties  which  are  so  conducive  to  the  establishing  that  good 
name  which  we  have  endeavored  to  merit. 

For  this  laudable  purpose  let  me  observe  that  a  due 
attendance  at  the  lodge  becomes  absolutely  requisite.  For 
by  frequently  assembling  together,  we  shall  harmonize  in 
sentiments  and  grow  in  affection  ;  and  thus  become  suffici- 
ently guarded  against  the  disagreeable  effects  naturally 
resulting  from  a  roughness  of  behavior,  a  contemptuous  car- 
riage, a  censorious  disposition,  or  a  contradicting  temper, 
and  unity,  peace,  and  pleasure  will  presic1?.  These  will  be 
the  happy  effects  of  a  due  attendance  on  the  lodge,  and  how 
far  that  is  the  duty  as  well  as  the  interest  of  every  member, 
regularly  admitted,  his  own  heart  can  sufficiently  tell  him ; 
his  engagements  on  his  initiation  were  not  so  insignificant  as 
to  be  readily  forgot,  and  when  duly  considered,  will,  I  hope, 
appear  too  important  to  be  trifled  with,  for  the  Great 
Architect  of  the  Universe  is  our  Supreme  Grand  Master, 
and  he  is  a  searcher  of  hearts. 

In  the  next  place  permit  me,  worthy  brethren,  to  remind 
you  of  that  veneration  and  obedience  which  is  due  to  the 
particular  officers  in  the  lodge  in  their  respective  stations. 
You  well  know  that  the  internal,  and  not  the  external  quali- 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  176 

fications  of  a  man  are  what  Masonry  regards,  when  ho  is 
admitted  a  member.  Let  us  then  be  careful  to  justify  our- 
selves by  a  behavior,  to  superiors,  submissive ;  to  equals, 
courteous  and  affable ;  to  inferiors,  kind  and  condescending. 

Masonry  is  the  daughter  of  Heaven,  the  patroness  of  the 
liberal  arts  and  sciences,  which  polish  and  adorn  human 
nature.  Thankful  ought  they  to  be  who  have  it  in  their 
power  to  embrace  her,  and  happy  are  those  who  do.  She 
teaches  the  way  to  content,  with  fervency  and  zeal  unfeigned, 
as  sure  of  being  unchangeable  as  of  ending  in  felicity. 

Invested  as  we  are  with  that  ancient  and  noble  badge, 
which  yields  preference  to  no  honor  or  order  in  the  universe, 
let  us  determine  to  abhor  every  act  that  may  lessen  the 
dignity  of  our  profession,  which  to  this  hour  is  the  glory  of 
the  greatest  men  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  Let  us  conform 
our  whole  lives  to  that  great  light,  the  Law  of  God,  and  let 
our  actions  convince  the  world  that  Truth,  Brotherly  Love, 
and  a  desire  to  afford  relief  to  the  distressed,  are  the  grand 
principles  whereon  we  proceed.  So  that  this  life  having 
passed  in  the  discharge  of  our  duties,  as  men  and  Free- 
masons, we  may  at  length  be  received  into  the  presence  of 
our  Supreme  Grand  Master,  and  rejoice  in  hearing  him  say, 
"  Well  done,  ye  good  and  faithful  servants,  enter  ye  into 
the  joy  of  your  Lord." 


176  MA  SONIC     COUNSEL. 


A     BRIEF     CH  ARG-E, 

Delivered  to    a  Brother,  on   his    being    invested   and   installed 
Right  Worshipful  Ms«»t«r  of  a  Lodge. 

BY     WELLIN8     CALCOTT. 

RIGHT  WORSHIPFUL  SIR  :  By  the  unanimous  voice  of 
the  members  of  this  lodge,  you  are  elected  to  the  Master- 
ship thereof  for  the  ensuing  half  year;  and  I  have  the 
happiness  of  being  deputed  to  invest  you  with  this  ensign  of 
your  office.  Be  it  ever  in  your  thoughts,  that  the  ancients 
particularly  held  this  symbol  to  be  a  just,  a  striking  emblem 
of  the  Divinity.  They  said,  "The  gods,  who  are  the 
authors  of  everything  established  in  wisdom,  strength,  and 
beauty,  were  properly  represented  by  this  figure."  May 
you,  worthy  brother,  not  only  consider  it  as  a  mark  of 
honor  in  this  assembly,  but  also,  let  it  ever  remind  you  of 
your  duty  both  to  God  and  man.  And  as  you  profess  the 
sacred  volume  to  be  your  spiritual  tressel  board,  may  you 
make  it  your  particular  care  to  square  your  life  and  conver- 
sation according  to  the  rules  and  designs  laid  down  therein. 

What  you  have  seen  praiseworthy  in  others,  we  doubt 
not  you  will  imitate ;  and  what  you  have  seen  defective,  you 
will  in  yourself  amend. 

We  have  the  greatest  reason  to  expect  you  will  be  con- 
stant and  regular  in  your  attendance  on  the  lodge,  faith- 
ful and  diligent  in  the  discharge  of  your  duty.  And  that 
you  will  make  the  honor  of  the  Supreme  Architect  of  the 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  177 

universe  and  the  good  of  the  craft  chief  objects  of  your 
regard. 

We  trust  you  will  pay  a  punctual  attention  to  the  laws 
and  regulations  of  this  society,  as  more  particularly  becom- 
ing your  present  station ;  and  that  you  will  at  the  same 
time  require  a  due  obedience  to  them  from  every  other 
member,  well  knowing  that  without  this  the  be&!  of  laws 
become  useless. 

For  a  pattern  of  imitation,  consider  the  great  luminary 
of  nature,  which,  rising  in  the  east,  regularly  diffuses  light 
and  lustre  to  all  within  its  circle.  In  like  manner  it  is 
your  province,  with  due  decorum,  to  spread  and  communi- 
cate light  and  instruction  to  the  brethren  in  the  lodge. 


AN     ADDRESS. 

BY     WELLIN8     CALCOTT. 

WORTHY  BRETHREN  :  I  flatter  myself  there  is  no  Mason 
of  my  acquaintance  insensible  of  the  sincere  regard  I  ever 
had,  and  hope  ever  to  retain,  for  our  venerable  institution ; 
certain  I  am,  if  this  establishment  should  ever  be  held  in 
little  esteem  by  the  members,  it  must  be  owing  to  the  want 
of  a  due  sense  of  the  excellence  of  its  principles,  and  the 
salutary  laws  and  social  duties  on  which  it  is  founded. 

But  sometimes  mere  curiosity,  views  of  self-interest,  or  a 
groundless  presumption  that  the  principal  business  of  u 
lodge  is  mirth  and  entertainment,  have  induced  men  of  loose 
principles  and  discordant  tempers  to  procure  admission  into 


178  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

our  community ;  this,  together  with  an  unpardonable  inat- 
tention of  those  who  proposed  them  to  their  lives  and  con- 
versations, have  constantly  occasioned  great  discredit  and 
uneasiness  to  the  craft,  such  persons  being  no  ways  qualified 
for  a  society  founded  upon  wisdom,  and  cemented  by 
morality  and  Christian  love. 

Therefore  let  it  be  your  peculiar  care  to  pay  strict  atten- 
tion to  the  merit  and  character  of  those  who,  from  among 
the  circle  of  your  acquaintance,  may  be  desirous  of  becom- 
ing members  of  our  society,  lest  through  your  inadvertency 
the  unworthy  part  of  mankind  should  find  means  to  intro- 
duce themselves  among  you,  whereby  you  will  discourage 
the  reputable  and  worthy. 

Self-love  is  a  reigning  principle  in  all  men ;  and  there  is 
not  a  more  effectual  method  of  ingratiating  ourselves  with 
each  other,  than  by  mutual  complaisance  and  respect ;  by 
agreement  with  each  other  in  judgment  and  practice.  This 
makes  society  pleasing,  and  friendship  durable  ;  which  can 
never  be  the  case  when  men's  principles  and  dispositions 
are  opposite,  and  not  adapted  for  unity.  We  must  be 
moved  by  the  same  passions,  governed  by  the  same  inclina- 
tions, and  moulded  by  the  same  morals,  before  we  can 
please  or  be  pleased  in  society.  No  community  or  place 
can  make  a  man  happy  who  is  not  furnished  with  a  temper 
of  mind  to  relish  felicity.  The  wise  and  royal  Grand 
Master,  Solomon,  tells  us,  and  experience  confirms  it,  that 
"  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  to  behold  the 
sun."  Yet  for  this  pleasure  we  are  wholly  indebted  to  that 
astonishing  piece  of  heavenly  workmanship,  the  eye,  and  the 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  179 

several  organs  of  sight.  Let  the  eye  be  distempered,  and 
all  objects,  which  though  they  remain  the  same  in  them- 
selves, to  us  lose  their  beauty  and  lustre ;  let  the  eye  be 
totally  destroyed,  then  the  sense  which  depends  upon  it  is 
lost  also,  and  the  whole  body  is  full  of  darkness.  So  it  is 
with  that  Mason  who  has  not  a  frame  and  temper  of  mind 
adapted  to  our  institution,  without  which  the  blended  allure- 
ments of  pleasure  and  instruction,  to  be  found  in  a  lodge, 
must  become  tasteless,  and  of  none  effect.  Likewise  let  his 
conduct  and  circumstances  in  life  be  such  as  may  not  have 
the  least  tendency  to  diminish  the  credit  of  the  society. 
And  be  ye  ever  disposed  to  honor  good  men  for  their  virtues, 
and  wise  men  for  their  knowledge :  good  men  for  propaga- 
ting virtue  and  religion  all  over  the  world,  and  wise  men  for 
encouraging  arts  arid  sciences,  and  diffusing  them  from  east 
to  west,  and  between  north  and  south,  rejecting  all  wh">  are 
not  of  good  repute,  sound  morals,  ana  competent  under- 
standings. Hence  you  will  derive  honor  and  happiness  to 
yourselves,  and  drink  deeply  of  those  streams  of  felicity 
which  the  unenlightened  never  can  be  indulged  with  a  taste 
of. 

For  by  these  means  excess  and  irregularity  must  be 
strangers  within  your  walls.  On  sobriety  your  pleasure 
depends — on  regularity  your  reputation,  and  not  your  repu- 
tation only,  but  the  reputation  of  the  whole  body. 

These  general  cautions,  if  duly  attended  to,  will  continu- 
ally evince  your  wisdom  by  their  effects ;  for  I  can  with 
confidence  aver,  from  experience,  that  nothing  more  con- 
tribute? to  the  dissolution  of  a  lodge  than  too  great  a  num- 


180  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

ber  of  members  indiscriminately  made,  want  of  regulation 
in  their  expenses,  and  keeping  unseasonable  hours. 

To  guard  against  this  fatal  consequence  we  shall  do  well 
to  cultivate  the  following  virtues,  viz. :  prudence,  temper- 
ance, and  frugality.  Virtues  which  are  the  best  and 
properest  supports  of  every  community. 

Prudence  is  the  queen  and  guide  of  all  other  virtues,  the 
ornament  of  our  actions,  the  square  and  rule  of  our  affairs. 
It  is  the  knowledge  and  choice  of  those  things  we  must 
either  approve  or  reject ;  and  implies  to  consult  and  deliber- 
ate well,  to  judge  and  resolve  well,  to  conduct  and  execute 
well. 

Temperance  consists  in  the  government  of  our  appetites 
and  affections,  so  as  to  use  the  good  things  of  this  life  as 
not  to  abuse  them,  either  by  a  sordid  and  ungrateful  parsi- 
mony on  the  one  hand,  or  a  profuse  and  prodigal  indulgence 
to  excess  on  the  other.  This  virtue  has  many  powerful 
arguments  in  its  favor ;  for,  as  we  value  our  health,  wealth, 
reputation,  family,  and  friends,  our  character,  as  men,  as 
Christians,  as  members  of  society  in  general,  and  as  Free- 
masons in  particular,  all  conspire  to  call  on  us  for  the 
exercise  of  this  virtue  :  in  short,  it  comprehends  a  strict 
observance  of  the  apostle's  exhortation,  "  Be  ye  temperate 
in  all  things  ;"  not  only  avoiding  what  is  in  itself  improper, 
but  also  whatever  has  the  least  or  most  remote  appearance 
of  impropriety,  that  the  tongue  of  the  slanderer  may  be 
struck  dumb,  and  malevolence  disarmed  of  its.  sting. 

Frugality,  the  natural  associate  of  prudence  and  temper- 
ance, is  what  the  meanest  station  necessarily  calls  for,  the 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  181 

most  exalted  cannot  dispense  with.  It  is  absolutely  requi- 
site in  all  stations.  It  is  highly  necessary  to  the  supporting 
every  desirable  character,  to  the  establishment  of  every 
society,  to  the  interest  of  every  individual  in  the  com- 
munity. It  is  a  moral,  it  is  a  Christian  virtue.  It 
implies  the  strict  observation  of  decorum  in  the  seasons  of 
relaxation,  and  of  every  enjoyment,  and  is  that  temper  of 
mind  which  is  disposed  to  employ  every  acquisition  only  to 
the  glory  of  the  giver,  our  own  happiness,  and  that  of  our 
fellow-creatures. 

Prudence  will  discover  the  absurdity  and  folly  of  expect- 
ing true  harmony  without  due  attention  to  the  choice  of  our 
members.  Temperance  will  check  every  appearance  ,of 
excess,  and  fix  rational  limitations  to  our  hours  of  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  frugality  will  proscribe  extravagance,  and  keep 
our  expenses  within  proper  bounds. 

The  Lacedemonians  had  a  law  among  them,  that  every 
one  should  serve  the  gods  with  as  little  expense  as  he  could, 
herein  differing  from  all  other  Grecians ;  and  Lycurgus 
being  asked  for  what  reason  he  made  th^s  institution  so 
disagreeable  to  the  sentiments  of  all  other  men,  answered, 
"  Lest  at  any  time  the  service  of  the  gods  should  be  inter- 
mitted ;  for  he  feared,  if  religion  should  be  as  expensive 
there  as  in  other  parts  of  Greece,  it  might  some  time  or 
other  happen  that  the  divine  worship,  out  of  the  covetous- 
ness  of  some,  and  the  poverty  of  others,  would  be  neglected." 
This  observation  will  hold  equally  good  with  respect  to 
Masons,  and  will,  I  hope,  by  them  be  properly  applied. 
I  would  not  be  understood  here  to  mean,  that  because 


182  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

these  three  moral  virtues  are  particularly  pointed  out,  as 
essentially  necessary  to  the  good  discipline  and  support  of  a 
lodge,  nothing  more  is  required  ;  for  social  must  be  united 
with  moral  excellencies  ;  was  a  man  to  be  merely  prudent, 
temperate  and  fruga',  and  yet  be  unaccustomed  to  the 
duties  of  humanity,  sincerity,  generosity,  &c.,  he  would  be 
at  most  but  a  useless,  if  not  a  worthless  member  of  society, 
and  a  much  worse  Mason. 

In  the  next  place  permit  me  to  remind  you,  that  a  due 
attendance  on  the  lodge  for  your  own  improvement,  and  the 
reputation  of  Masonry  in  general,  is  absolutely  necessary  ; 
for  your  own  improvement,  because  the  advantages  natur- 
ally resulting  from  the  practice  or  principles  tin  rein  taught 
are  the  highest  ornament  of  human  nature ;  and  for  the 
credit  of  the  community,  because  it  is  your  indispensable 
duty  to  support  such  a  character  in  life  as  is  there  enjoined. 
The  prevalency  of  good  example  is  great,  and  no  language 
is  so  expressive  as  a  consistent  life  and  conversation  ;  these 
once  forfeited  in  the  Masonic  character  will  diminish  a  man, 
not  only  in  the%  esteem  of  persons  of  sense,  learning,  and 
probity,  but  even  men  of  inferior  qualities  will  seldom  fail 
of  making  a  proper  distinction. 

You  are  well  acquainted  that  the  envious  and  censorious 
are  ever  disposed  to  form  their  judgments  of  mankind 
according  to  their  conduct  in  public  life  ;  so  when  the  mem- 
bers of  our  society  desert  their  body,  or  discover  any  incon- 
sistency in  their  practice  with  their  profession,  they  con- 
tribute to  bring  an  odium  on  a  profession  which  it  is  the 
duty  of  every  member  highly  to  honor.  Indeed,  instances 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  183 

of  the  conduct  here  decried  I  own  are  very  rare,  and  I 
might  say,  as  often  as  they  do  happen,  tend  still  more  to 
discover  the  malignity  of  our  adversaries  than  to  reflect  on 
ourselves.  For  with  what  ill-nature  are  such  suggestions 
framed  !  How  weak  must  it  appear  in  the  eye  of  discern- 
ment to  condem  a  whole  society  for  the  irregularity  of  a  few 
individuals ! 

But  to  return  to  my  argument ;  one  great  cause  of 
absenting  ourselves  from  the  lodge  I  apprehend  to  be  this  : 
The  want  of  that  grand  fundamental  principle,  Brotherly 
Love !  Did  we  properly  cultivate  this  Christian  virtue,  we 
should  think  ourselves  happiest  when  assembled  together. 
On  unity  in  affection,  unity  in  government  subsists  ;  for 
whatever  draws  men  into  societies,  it  is  that  only  can 
cement  them. 

Let  us  recollect  that  Love  is  the  new  and  greatest  com- 
mandment ;  all  the  others  are  summarily  comprehended  in 
this.  It  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  and  a  necessary  qualifi- 
cation for  the  celestial  lodge,  where  the  Supreme  Architect 
of  the  universe  presides,  who  is  Love.  Faith,  Hope,  and 
Charity  are  three  principal  graces,  by  which  we  must  be 
guided  thither,  of  which  Charity,  or  universal  Love,  is  the 
chief.  When  Faith  shall  be  swallowed  up  in  vision,  and 
Hope  in  enjoyment,  then  true  Charity,  or  Brotherly  Love, 
will  shine  with  the  brightest  lustre  to  all  eternity  ; 

"  Shall  stand  before  the  host  of  heaven  confest, 
For  ever  blessing,  and  for  ever  blest." 

On  the  other  hand,  envy,  }  ride,  censoriousness,  malice, 


184  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

revenge,  and  discord,  are  the  productions  of  a  diabolical 
disposition.  These  are  epidemical  disorders  of  the  mind. 
and  if  not  seasonably  corrected  and  suppressed,  will  prove 
very  pernicious  to  particular  communities,  and  more  especi- 
ally to  such  an  establishment  as  ours. 

Now  there  is  nothing  so  diametrically  opposite  to  them, 
and  so  powerful  an  antidote  against  them  as  Charity,  or 
true  Brotherly  Love ;  for  instance,  are  we  tempted  to  envy, 
Charity  guards  the  mind  against  it — Charity  envieth  not. 
Are  we  tempted  by  pride,  Charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not 
puffed  up.  Where  this  virtue  is  predominant,  humility  is 
both  its  companion  and  its  delight  ;  for  the  charitable  man 
puts  on  bowels  of  mercy,  kindness,  lowliness  of  mind.  It 
is  a  certain  remedy  likewise  against  all  censoriousness. 
Charity  thinketh  no  evil,  but  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all 
things,  will  ever  incline  us  to  believe  and  hope  the  best, 
especially  of  a  Brother. 

Therefore  let  a  constant  exercise  of  this  Christian  virtue, 
BO  essential  to  our  present  and  future  happiness,  prove  our 
great  esteem  for  it,  and  by  its  influence  upon  our  lives  and 
actions,  testify  to  the  world  the  cultivation  of  it  amongst  us, 
that  they  who  think  or  speak  evil  of  us  may  be-  thereby 
confounded  and  put  to  open  shame.  And  as  it  was  a  pro- 
verbial expression  among  the  enemies  of  Christianity  in  its 
infancy,  "  See  how  these  Christians  love  one  another," 
may  the  same  with  equal  propriety  be  said  of  Freemasons. 
This  will  convince  the  scoffer  and  slanderer  that  we  are  lovers 
of  Him  who  said,  "  If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments ; 
and,  this  is  my  commandment,  that  ye  love  one  another,  as 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  186 

I  have  loved  you."  This  will  prove  to  our  enemies  that  a 
good  Mason  is  a  good  man  and  a  good  Christian,  and  afford 
ourselves  the  greatest  comfort  here  by  giving  us  a  well- 
grounded  hope  of  admittance  into  a  lodge  of  everlasting 
felicity  hereafter.  Thus  shall  our  institution  be  enabled  to 
repel  the  destructive  power  of  time,  the  strongest  arm  of 
calumny,  and  the  severest  strokes  of  reproach,  till  that  great 
and  important  day  when  the  commissioned  archangel  shall 
pronounce  this  awful  sentence, — 

"  Earth,  be  dissolved,  with  all  the  worlds  on  high, 
And  time  be  lost  in  vast  eternity." 


A     CHARGE, 
Delivered  to  the  Members  of  the  Uniou  Lodge. 

BY     ALEXANDER     8HEDDEN. 

MY  WORTHY  BRETHREN  :  This  being  our  second  quar- 
terly meeting  since  I  had  the  honor  to  sit  in  this  chair,  I 
embrace  the  opportunity  again  to  return  you  my  sincere 
thanks  for  that  honor,  and  to  assure  you  I  am  determined, 
to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  to  execute  the  great  trust  which 
you  continue  to  repose  in  me,  with  freedom,  fervency  and 
zeal.  That  I  may  be  enabled  so  to  do,  let  us  unanimously 
concur  in  cultivating  peace,  harmony,  and  perfect  friend- 
ship, striving  who  shall  excel  in  Brotherly  Love  and  benig- 
nity ;  then  I  doubt  not,  but  with  the  assistance  of  my 


188  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

brother  officers,  I  may  be  enabled  to  conduct  the  business 
of  the  lodge,  and  discharge  my  duty  to  your  satisfaction. 

To  accomplish  these  desirable  ends,  let  me,  in  the  first 
place,  intreat  your  strict  attention  to  our  by-laws,  ever 
keeping  in  view  the  general  regulations,  constitution,  and 
orders  of  our  ancient  and  honorable  society.  Let  due 
regard  be  paid  to  youi  officers  in  their  respective  stations, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  regulate  the  proceedings  of  the  lodge,  and 
to  carry  the  laws  into  execution ;  and  may  the  only  conten- 
tion amongst  us  be,  a  laudable  emulation  in  cultivating  the 
royal  art,  and  endeavoring  to  excel  each  other  in  whatever 
is  good  and  great.  The  moral  and  social  duties  of  life  we 
should  make  a  principal  subject  of  contemplation,  for  there- 
by we  shall  be  enabled  to  subdue  our  passions,  and  cultivate 
fraternal  affection,  the  glory  and  cement  of  this  institution, 
laying  aside  all  malice,  and  all  guile  and  hypocrisies,  and 
envies,  and  all  evil  speakings  ;  manifesting  our  love  one  to 
another,  for  "  Love  is  of  God ;  and  he  that  loveth  God, 
loveth  his  brother  also.  And  he  that  saith  he  is  in  the 
light,  and  hateth  his  brother,  is  in  darkness  until  now." 

Suffer  not  to  be  heard  within  the  sacred  walls  of  this 
lodge  but  the  heavenly  sounds  of  truth,  peace  and  concord, 
with  a  cheerful  harmony  of  social  and  innocent  mirth  ;  and 
"be  ye  like-minded,  having  the  same  love,  being  of  one 
accord  and  of  one  mind ;  let  nothing  be  done  through  strife 
or  vainglory,  but  in  lowliness  of  mind  let  each  esteem  other 
better  than  themselves."  Never  give  cause  for  it  to  be 
said,  that  we  who  are  solemnly  connected  by  the  strictest 
laws  of  amity  should  ever  omit  the  practice  of  forbearance, 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  187 

and  allow  our  passions  to  control  us,  when  one  great  end 
proposed  by  our  meeting  here  is  to  subdue  them.  Let  us 
not  sit  down  contented  with  the  name  only  of  a  Mason,  but 
walk  worthy  of  that  glorious  profession,  in  constant  con- 
formity to  its  duties.  To  become  brethren  worthy  of  our 
most  ancient  and  honorable  institution,  we  must  devote  our- 
selves to  the  study  and  discharge  of  the  following  duties, 
which  are  more  or  less  within  the  reach  of  every  capacity 
viz.  :  a  knowledge  of  the  mysterious  problems,  hieroglyph- 
ics, and  symbolical  customs  and  ceremonies  of  the  royal 
art,  together  with  the  origin,  nature,  and  design  of  the  insti- 
tution, its  signs,  tokens,  &c.,  whereby  Masons  are  univer- 
sally known  to  and  can  converse  with  each  other,  though 
born  and  bred  in  different  countries  and  languages. 

A  Freemason  must  likewise  be  a  good  man,  one  who  duly 
fears,  loves,  and  serves  his  heavenly  Master,  and  in  imi- 
tation of  the  operative  mason,  who  erects  a  temporal  build- 
ing according  to  the  rules  and  designs  laid  down  for  him,  by 
the  master  mason,  on  his  tressel-board,  raise  a  spiritual 
building,  according  to  the  laws  and  injunctions  laid  down  by 
the  supreme  Architect  of  the  universe  in  the  book  of  life, 
which  may  justly  be  considered  in  this  light  as  a  spiritual 
tressel-board.  He  must  honor  the  government,  be  subordi- 
nate to  his  superiors,  and  ever  ready  to  promote  the  deserv- 
ing brother  in  all  his  lawful  employments  and  concerns. 
These,  my  brethren,  are  qualifications  of  a  good  Mason, 
wherefore  they  merit  our  peculiar  attention ;  and,  as  it  is 
our  duty,  we  should  make  it  our  pleasure  to  practice  them  ; 
by  so  doing  we  shall  let  our  light  shine  before  men,  and 


MASON  1C      COUNSEL. 


prove  ourselves  worthy  members  of  that  institution  which 
ennobles  all  who  .conform  to  its  most  glorious  precepts. 

Finally,  let  me  advise  you  to  be  very  circumspect  and 
well  guarded  against  the  base  attempts  of  pretemlns, 
always  setting  a  watch  before  your  mouth.  And  with 
respect  to  any  who  may  call  themselves  Masons,  but  (pos- 
sessing refractory  spirits)  are  at  the  same  time  enemies  to 
all  order,  decency,  and  decorum,  speaking  and  acting  as 
rebels  to  the  constitution  of  Masons,  let  me  exhort  you  to 
have  no  connection  with  them,  but  according  to  the  advice 
of  St.  Paul  to  the  Thessalonians,  "  withdraw  yourselves 
from  every  brother  that  walketh  disorderly,"  leaving  such 
to  the  natural  consequence  of  their  own  bad  conduct ;  being 
well  assured  that  the  vain  fabric  which  they  mean  to  erect, 
having  no  other  support  than  their  own  ignorance,  debility, 
and  deformity,  will  of  itself  soon  tumble  to  the  ground,  with 
shame  and  ruin  on  the  builders'  heads.  t  On  the  other 
hand,  let  us  live  in  strict  amity  and  fraternal  love  with  all 
just  and  upright  brethren,  that  we  may  say,  with  the  royal 
Psalmist,  "  Behold  how  good  and  how  pleasant  it  is  for 
brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity." 

Let  God's  holy  word  be  the  guide  of  our  faith,  and 
justice,  charity,  love  and  mercy,  our  characteristics  ;  then 
we  may  reasonably  hope  to  attain  the  celestial  pass  word, 
and  gain  admittance  into  the  lodge  of  our  Supreme  Grand 
Master,  where  pleasures  flow  for  evermore.  This  is  the 
fervent  prayer  of  him  who  glories  in  the  name  of  a  faithful 
Mason,  and  has  the  honor  to  be  Master  of  this  Right 
Worshipful  Lodge. 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  189 

AN     ADDRESS. 
BY    REV.    HENRY    CHALMERS.     • 

RIGHT  WORSHIPFUL  MASTER  AND  WORTHY  BRETHREN: 
A  desire  to  entertain  each  other  with  social,  virtuous,  and 
cheerful  sentiments,  is  the  duty  as  well  as  the  happiness  of 
every  member  of  our  ancient  and  honorable  society. 

Knowledge  (which  is  attained  by  diligence)  must  precede 
practice,  and  till  we  know  a  duty,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to 
discharge  it.  The  lodge  is  the  properest  school  wherein  we 
can  expect  to  arrive  at  any  proficiency  in  our  noble  science, 
and  by  a  constant  ind  regular  attendance  there,  we  may 
hope  to  become  Masters  of  the  royal  art ;  whereas  the 
neglect  of  this  duty  can  produce  nought  but  ignorance  and 
error.  Indeed,  were  these  the  only  consequences  of  a  wil- 
ful or  indolent  absence,  the  craft  might  not  suffer  much  by 
such  lukewarm  brethren  ;  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  this  is  not 
all ;  the  eye  of  the  censurer  is  ever  upon  us,  and  the  lips 
of  the  stammerer  speak  plainly  against  us ;  and  when  the 
members  of  our  society  desert  the  body,  the  unenlightened 
are  ever  ready  to  impeach  the  harmony  and  improvement 
which  we  profess  and  know  to  be  the  inseparable  com- 
panions of  every  well-regulated  lodge,  where  virtue  finds  a 
real  pleasure,  and  vice  a  just  abhorrence. 

Let  us,  therefore,  be  ever  vigilant  in  the  discharge  of  our 
duty,  and  particularly  assiduous  in  cultivating  those  grand 
essentials  of  our  constitution,  Brotherly  Love,  Beneficence, 


190  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

and  Truth.  Thus  we  shall  be  always  happy  in  assembling 
together.  Thus  will  our  lodge  shine  with  undiininished 
lustre,  even  as  long  as  the  radiant  sun  shall  rise  in  the  east 
to  gild  our  days,  and  the  pale  moon  appear  to  illuminate 
our  nights.  Thus  supported  by  Wisdom,  Strength,  and 
Beauty ;  adorned  with  peace,  plenty,  and  harmony ;  cement- 
ed by  secrecy,  morality,  and  good-fellowship,  what  has  it 
to  fear  ?  Let  the  tides  of  time  and  chance  beat  against  its 
walls ;  the  gusts  of  malice  assault  its  towering  height ;  it  is 
all  in  vain !  Still  shall  the  noble  structure  firmly  stand, 
and  only  be  dissolved  when  the  pillars  of  the  universe  shall 
be  shaken,  and  "  the  great  globe  itself,  yea,  all  which  it 
inherit,  shall,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision,  leave  not 
a  wreck  behind." 


AN     ADDRESS 

Delivered  in  a  Lodge  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons,  immediately 
after  the  Expulsion  of  a  Member  who  had  been  repeatedly,  but 
in  vain,  admonished  for  the  illiberal  practice  of  backbiting  and 
slandering  his  Brethren.* 

BRETHREN  :  As  in  all  numerous  bodies  and  societies  of 
men,  some  unworthy  will  ever  be  found,  it  can  be  no  wonder 
that,  notwithstanding  the  excellent  principles  and  valuable 

•  This  admirable  Address  should  be  printed  in  "  letten  of  gold."  If  it  could  be 
impressed  in  words  of  fire  on  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men— whether 
Masons  or  not— it  might,  perhaps,  bum  out  the  damnable  tongue  of  slander.  May 
Ood  blast  that  tongue  !— r.  n. 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  191 

precepts  laid  down  and  inculcated  by  our  venerable  insti- 
tution, we  have  such  amongst  us;  men  who,  instead  of 
being  ornaments  or  useful  members  of  our  body,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  are  a  shame  and  disgrace  to  it. 

These  are  sufficiently  characterized  by  a  natural  pro 
pensity  to  backbite  and  slander  their  brethren,  vices  truly 
detestable  in  all  men,  and  more  peculiarly  so  in  Free- 
masons, who,  by  the  regulations  of  their  institution,  are 
specially  exhorted  and  enjoined  "to  speak  as  well  of  a 
brother  if  absent  as  present ;  to  defend  his  honor  and  repu- 
tation wherever  attacked,  as  far  as  truth  and  justice  will 
permit ;  and  "where  they  cannot  reasonably  vindicate  liim, 
at  least  to  refrain  from  contributing  to  condemn  him." 

But  alas !  regardless  of  their  duty  in  general,  and  of  these 
laudable  injunctions  in  particular,  we  frequently  find  such 
men  assiduously  employed  in  traducing  the  characters  of 
their  brethren ;  and  instead  of  rejoicing  at  their  good  for- 
tune, pitying  their  misfortunes,  and  apologizing  for  their 
weaknesses  and  errors,  envying  their  prosperity,  and,  unaf- 
fected by  their  adversity,  with  a  secret  and  malicious  plea- 
sure, exploring  and  publishing  their  defects  and  failings ; 
like  trading  vessels  they  pass  from  place  to  place,  receiving 
and  discharging  whatever  calumny  they  can  procure  from 
others  or  invent  themselves. 

As  we  have  just  now  had  a  mortifying  instance  of  tha 
necessary  consequence  of  such  base  conduct,  in  the  expul- 
sion of  one  of  our  own  members,  permit  me  to  deliver  to  you 
some  sentiments  of  the  great  Archbishop  Tillottson  on  the 
subject.  He  assigns  various  causes  of  this  evil,  and  also 


192  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

furnishes  directions,  which  if  adhered  to,  will  greatly  con- 
tribute to  prevent  and  remedy  it. 

"  If  we  consider  the  causes  of  this  evil  practice,  we  shall 
find  one  of  the  most  common  is  ill-nature ;  and  by  a  gen- 
eral mistake,  ill-nature  passeth  for  wit,  as  cunning  dolh  fur 
wisdom ;  though  in  truth  they  are  as  different  as  vice  and 
virtue. 

"  There  is  no  greater  evidence  of  the  bad  temper  of  man- 
kind, than  their  proneness  to  evil-speaking.  For  as  our 
Saviour  saith,  '  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh,'  and  therefore  we  commonly  incline  to  the 
censorious  and  uncharitable  side. 

"  The  good  spoken  of  others  we  easily  forget,  or  seldom 
mention,  but  the  evil  lies  uppermost  in  our  memories,  and 
is  ready  to  be  published  upon  all  occasions ;  nay,  what  is 
more  ill-natured  and  unjust,  though  many  times  we  do  not 
believe  it  ourselves,  we  tell  it  to  others,  and  venture  it  to  be 
believed  according  to  the  charity  of  those  to  whom  it  is  told. 

"  Another  cause  of  the  frequency  of  this  vice  is,  that 
many  are  so  bad  themselves.  For  to  think  and  speak  ill 
of  others  is  not  only  a  bad  tiling,  but  a  sign  of  a  bad  man. 
When  men  are  bad  themselves  they  are  glad  of  any  oppor- 
tunity to  censure  others,  and  endeavor  to  bring  things  to  a 
level,  hoping  it  will  be  some  justification  of  their  own  faults 
if  they  can  but  make  others  appear  equally  guilty. 

"  A  third  cause  of  evil-speaking  is  malice  and  revenge. 
When  we  are  blinded  by  our  passions  we  do  not  consider 
what  is  true,  but  what  is  mischievous ;  we  care  not  whether 
the  evil  we  speak  be  true  or  not ;  nay,  many  aie  so  base  as 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  193 

to  invent  and  raise  false  reports,  on  purpose  to  blast  the 
reputations  of  those  by  whom  they  think  themselves  injured. 
This  is  a  diabolical  temper ;  and  therefore  St.  James  tells 
us,  that  the  slanderer's  tongue  is  set  on  fire  of  hell. 

"  A  fourth  cause  of  this  vice  is  envy.  Men  look  with  an 
evil  eye  upon  the  good  that  is  in  others,  and  do  what  they 
can  to  discredit  their  commendable  qualities ;  thinking  their 
own  characters  lessened  by  them,  they  greedily  entertain, 
and  industriously  publish,  what  may  raise  themselves  upon 
the  ruins  of  other  men's  reputation. 

"  A  fifth  cause  of  evil-speaking  is  impertinence  and  curi- 
osity ;  an  itch  of  talking  of  affairs  which  do  not  concern  us. 
Some  love  to  mingle  themselves  in  all  business,  and  are  loth 
to  seem  ignorant  of  such  important  news  as  the  faults  and 
follies  of  men ;  therefore  with  great  care  they  pick  up  ill 
stories  to  entertain  the  next  company  they  meet,  not  per- 
haps out  of  malice,  but  for  want  of  something  better  to  talk 
of. 

"  Lastly,  many  do  this  out  of  wantonness  and  for  diver- 
sion ;  so  little  do  they  consider  a  man's  reputation  is  too 
great  and  tender  a  concern  to  be  jested  with,  and  that  a 
slanderous  tongue  bites  like  a  serpent,  and  cuts  like  a 
sword.  What  can  be  so  barbaious,  next  to  sporting  with  a 
man's  life,  as  to  play  with  his  honor  and  good  name,  which 
to  some  is  better  than  life  1" 

Such,  and  so  bad,  are  the  causes  of  this  vice. 

"  If  we  consider  its  pernicious  effects,  we  shall  find  that 
to  such  as  are  slandered  it  is  a  great  injury,  commonly  a 
high  provocation,  but  always  matter  of  grief. 


1M  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

"  It  is  certainly  a  great  injury,  and  if  the  evil  which  wo 
say  of  them  be  not  true,  it  is  an  injury  beyond  repara- 
tion. It  is  an  injury  that  descends  to  a  man's  children ; 
because  the  good  or  ill  name  of  the  father  is  derived  down 
to  them;  and  many  times  the  best  thing  he  has  to  leave  them 
is  an  unblemished  virtue.  And  do  we  make  no  conscience 
to  rob  his  innocent  children  of  the  best  part  of  this  small 
patrimony,  and  of  all  the  kindness  that  would  have  been 
done  them  for  their  father's  sake,  if  his  reputation  had  not 
been  so  undeservedly  stained?  Is  it  no  crime  by  the 
breath  of  our  month  at  once  to  blast  a  man's  reputation, 
and  to  ruin  his  children  perhaps  to  all  posterity  ?  Can  we 
jest  with  so  serious  a  matter  ?  an  injury  so  very  hard  to 
be  repented  of  as  it  ought  ?  because,  in  such  a  case,  no 
repentance  will  be  acceptable  without  restitution,  if  in  our 
power. 

u  Even  suppose  the  matter  of  the  slander  true,  yet  no 
man's  reputation  is  considerably  stained,  though  never  so 
deservedly,  without  great  hurt  to  him  ;  and  it  is  odds  but 
the  charge,  by  passing  through  several  hands,  is  aggravated 
beyond  truth,  every  one  being  apt  to  add  something  to  it. 

"  Besides  the  injury,  it  is  commonly  a  high  provocation, 
the  consequences  of  which  may  be  dangerous  and  desperate 
quarrels.  One  way  or  other  the  injured  person  will  hear 
of  it,  and  will  take  the  first  opportunity  to  revenge  it. 

"At  best,  it  is  always  matter  of  grief  to  the  person  that 
is  defamed,  and  Christianity,  which  is  the  best-natured 
institution  in  the  world,  forbids  us  to  do  those  things  where- 
by we  may  grieve  one  another." 


MASONIC     COUNSEL.  195 

A  man's  character  is  a  tender  thing,  and  a  wound  there 
sink's  deep  into  the  spirit  even  of  a  wise  and  a  good  man  ; 
and  the  more  innocent  any  man  is  in  this  respect,  the  more 
sensible  he  is  of  this  uncharitable  treatment ;  because  he 
never  treats  others  so,  nor  is  he  conscious  to  himself  that 
he  hath  deserved  it. 

"  To  ourselves  the  consequences  of  this  vice  are  as  bad  or 
worse.  He  that  accustoms  himself  to  speak  evil  of  others, 
gives  a  bad  character  to  himself,  even  to  those  whom  he 
desires  to  please,  who,  if  they  be  wise,  will  conclude  that 
he  speaks  of  them  to  others  as  he  does  of  others  to  them. 

"  And  this  practice  of  evil-speaking  may  be  inconvenient 
many  other  ways.  For  who  knows,  in  the  chance  of  things, 
and  the  mutability  of  human  affairs,  whose  kindness  he  may 
stand  in  need  of  before  he  dies  ?  So,  that  did  a-  man  only 
consult  his  own  safety  and  quiet,  he  ought  to  refrain  from 
evil-speaking. 

"  How  cheap  a  kindness  is  it  to  speak  well,  at  least  not 
to  speak  ill  of  others  !  A  good  word  is  an  easy  obligation, 
but  not  to  speak  ill  requires  only  our  silence.  Some 
instances  of  charity  are  chargeable ;  but  were  a  man  ever 
so  covetous,  he  might  afford  another  his  good  word ;  at  least 
he  might  refrain  from  speaking  ill  of  him,  especially  if  it 
be  considered  how  dear  many  have  paid  for  a  slanderous 
and  reproachful  word. 

"  No  quality  ordinarily  recommends  one  more  to  the 
favor  of  men,  than  to  be  free  from  this  vice.  Such  a  man's 
friendship  every  one  desires ;  and,  next  to  piety  and 
righteousness,  nothing  is  thought  a  greater  commendation 


196  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

than  that  he  was  never,  or  very  rarely,  heard  to  speak  ill 
of  any. 

"  Let  every  man  lay  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  and  con- 
sider how  himself  is  apt  to  he  affected  with  this  usage. 
Nothing  sure  is  more  equal  and  reasonable  than  that  known 
rule,  What  thou  wouldst  have  no  man  do  to  thee,  that  do 
thou  to  no  man. 

"  The  following  directions,  if  duly  observed,  will  greatly 
con  tribute  to  the  prevention  and  cure  of  this  great  evil. 

"  Never  say  any  evil  of  another  but  what  you  certainly 
know. 

"  Whenever  you  positively  accuse  a  man  of  any  crime, 
though  it  be  in  private  and  among  friends,  speak  as  if  you 
were  upon  your  oath,  because  God  sees  and  hears  you. 
This  not  only  charity  but  justice  demands  of  us.  He  that 
easily  credits  a  false  report  is  almost  as  culpable  as  the 
first  inventor  of  it.  Therefore  never  speak  evil  of  any  upon 
common  fame,  which  for  the  most  part  is  false,  but  almost 
always  uncertain. 

"  Before  you  speak  evil  of  another,  consider  whether  he 
hath  not  obliged  you  by  some  real  kindness,  and  then  it  is  a 
bad  turn  to  speak  ill  of  him  who  hath  done  you  good.  Con- 
sider, also,  whether  you  may  not  come  hereafter  to  be 
acquainted  with  him,  related  to  him,  or  in  want  of  his  favor, 
whom  you  have  thus  injured  ?  And  whether  it  may  not  bo 
in  his  power  to  revenge  a  spiteful  and  needless  word  by  a 
shrewd  turn.  So  that  if  a  man  made  no  conscience  of  hurt- 
ing others,  yet  he  should  in  prudence  have  some  considera- 
tion of  himself. 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  197 

"  Let  us  accustom  ourselves  to  be  truly  sorry  for  the 
faults  of  men,  and  then  we  shall  take  no  pleasure  in 
publishing  them.  Common  humanity  requires  this  of  us, 
considering  the  great  infirmities  of  our  nature,  and  that 
we  also  are  liable  to  be  tempted  ;  considering  likewise  how 
severe  a  punishment  every  crime  is  to  itself,  how  terribly 
it  exposeth  a  man  to  the  wrath  of  God,  both  here  and  here- 
after. 

"  Whenever  we  hear  any  man  evil  spoken  of,  if  we  have 
heard  any  good  of  him,  let  us  say  that.  It  is  always  more 
humane  and  more  honorable  to  vindicate  others  than  to 
accuse  them.  Were  it  necessary  that  a  man  should  be  evil 
spoken  of,  his  good  and  bad  qualities  should  be  represented 
together,  otherwise  he  may  be  strangely  misrepresented, 
and  an  indifferent  man  may  be  made  a  monster. 

"  They  that  will  observe  nothing  in  a  wise  man  but  his 
oversights  and  follies,  nothing  in  a  good,  but  his  failings 
and  infirmities,  may  render  both  despicable.  Should  we 
heap  together  all  the  passionate  speeches,  all  the  imprudent 
actions  of  the  best  man,  and  present  them  all  at  one  view, 
concealing  his  virtues,  he,  in  this  disguise,  would  look  like 
a  madman  or  fury ;  and  yet,  if  his  life  were  fairly  repre- 
sented in  the  manner  it  was  led,  he  would  appear  to  all  the 
world  to  be  an  admirable  and  excellent  person.  But  how 
numerous  soever  any  man's  ill  qualities  are,  it  is  but  just 
that  he  should  have  due  praise  of  his  few  real  virtues. 

"  That  you  may  not  speak  ill,  do  not  delight  in  hearing 
it  of  any.  Give  no  countenance  to  busy-bodies ;  if  you 
cannot  decently  reprove  them,  because  of  their  quality, 


198  MASONIC     COUNSEL. 

divert  the  discourse  some  other  way  ;  or  by  seeming  not  to 
mind  it,  signify  that  you  do  not  like  it. 

"  Let  every  man  mind  his  own  duty  and  concern.  Do 
but  endeavor,  in  good  earnest,  to  mend  yourself,  and  it  will 
be  work  enough,  and  leave  you  little  time  to  talk  of  others." 

In  the  foregoing  sentiments,  the  Backbiter  and  Slamlm  T 
may  see  himself  fully  represented  as  in  a  true  mirror ;  and 
detestable  as  the  spectacle  naturally  appears,  much  more  so 
does  it  seem  when  Masonically  examined.  May  all  such 
therefore  contemplate  the  nature  and  consequences  of  this 
abominable  vice;  and  that  they  may  still  become  worthy 
men  and  Masons,  let  them  constantly  pray,  with  the  royal 
Psalmist,  "  Set  a  watch,  0  Lord,  before  my  mouth,  keep 
thou  the  door  of  my  lips ;"  being  assured  of  their  encour- 
agement, that  "  he  who  backbiteth  not  with  his  tongue, 
nor  doeth  evil  to  his  neighbor,  nor  take th' up  a  reproach 
against  his  neighbor,  shall  abide  in  the  tabernacle  of  the 
Lord,  and  shall  dwell  in  his  holy  hill." 


A  CHARGE  TO  NEWLY-ADMITTED  BRETHREN. 

You  are  now  admitted,  by  the  unanimous  consent  of  our 
lodge,  a  fellow  of  our  most  ancient  and  honorable  society  ; 
ancient,  as  having  subsisted  from  time  immemorial,  and 
honorable,  as  tending  in  every  particular  to  render  a  man 
so,  that  will  be  but  conformable  to  its  glorious  precepts. 
The  greatest  monarchs  in  all  ages,  as  well  of  Asia  and 


MASONIC     COUNSEL.  199 

Africa  as  of  Europe,  have  been  encouragers  of  the  royal 
art,  and  many  of  them  have  presided  as  Grand  Masters 
over  the  Masons  in  their  respective  dominions  ;  not  think- 
ing it  any  diminution  of  their  imperial  dignities  to  level 
themselves  with  their  brethren  in  Masonry,  and  to  act  as 
they  did.  The  world's  great  Architect  is  our  Supreme 
Master,  and  the  unerring  rule  he  ^s  given  us  is  that  by 
which  we  work.  Religious  disputes  are  never  suffered  in 
the  lodge,  for,  as  Freemasons,  we  only  pursue  the  universal 
religion  of  nature.  This  is  the  cement  which  unites  men 
of  the  most  different  principles  in  one  sacred  band,  and 
brings  together  those  who  were  the  most  distant  from  one 
another. 

There  are  three  general  heads  of  duty,  whic'i  Masons 
ought  always  to  inculcate,  viz.  :  to  God,  our  neighbors,  and 
ourselves.  To  God,  in  never  mentioning  his  name  but  with 
that  reverential  awe  which  becomes  a  creature  to  bear  to 
his  Creator  ;  and  to  look  upon  him  always  as  the  summum 
bonum  which  we  came  into  the  world  to  enjoy.  And 
according  to  that  view  to  regulate  all  our  pursuits.  To  our 
neighbors,  in  acting  upon  the  square,  or  doing  as  we  would 
be  done  by.  To  ourselves,  in  avoiding  all  intemperances 
and  excesses,  whereby  we  may  be  led  into  a  behavior 
unbecoming  our  laudable  profession. 

In  the  state,  a  Mason  is  to  act  as  a  peaceable  and  duti- 
ful subject,  conforming  cheerfully  to  the  government  under 
which  he  lives;  he  is  to  pay  a  due  deference  to  his 
superiors,  and  from  his  inferiors  he  is  rather  to  receive 
honor  with  some  reluctance  than  to  extort  it :  he  is  to  be  a 


MASONIC     COUNSEL. 


of  benevolence  and  charity,  not  sitting  down  contented 
while  his  fellow-creatures  (but  much  more  his  bivtlnvn)  are 
in  want,  and  it  is  in  his  power,  without  prejudicing  himself 
or  family,  to  relieve  them.  In  the  lodge  he  is  to  behave  with 
all  due  decorum,  lest  the  beauty  and  harmony  thereof 
should  be  disturbed  and  broke.  He  is  to  be  obedient  to  the 
Master  and  presiding  officers,  and  to  apply  himself  closely 
to  the  business  of  Masonry,  that  he  may  sooner  become  a 
proficient  therein,  both  for  his  own  credit  and  that  of  the 
lodge.  He  is  not  to  neglect  his  necessary  avocations  for 
the  sake  of  Masonry,  nor  to  involve  himself  in  quarrels  with 
those  who,  through  ignorance,  may  speak  evil  of,  or  ridicule 
it.  He  is  to  be  a  lover  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  to 
take  all  opportunities  of  improving  himself  therein.  If  ho 
recommends  a  friend  to  be  made  a  Mason,  he  must  vouch 
him  to  be  such  as  he  really  believes  will  -conform  to  the 
aforesaid  duties ;  lest  by  his  misconduct  at  any  time  the 
lodge  should  pass  under  some  evil  imputations.  Nothing 
can  prove  more  shocking  to  all  faithful  Masons  than  to  see 
any  of  their  brethren  profane  or  break  through  the  sacred 
rules  of  their  order  ;  and  such  as  can  do  it,  they  wish  had 
never  been  admitted.9 

hare  an  imprewion  that  thi«  mcuitf  charge  will  be  somewhat  familiar  to 
OdJ  Feliowi.-Eo. 


MASOIrC      COUNSEL.  201 

A  CIIARG-E  AT  THE  INITIATION  OF  A  FREEMASON. 

BY      THOMAS      FRENCH. 

BROTHER  :  Being  now  regularly  initiated  into  this  society, 
permit  me  to  offer  to  your  serious  consideration  those  virtues 
that  will  always  distinguish  you  among  men,  especially 
Masons. 

The  Holy  Scriptures,  the  standard  of  truth,  and  the 
unerring  dictates  of  an  unerring  Being,  I  would  recommend 
as  the  primary  object  of  your  attention. 

Next  a  general  an,  unlimited  regard  for  men  of  virtue, 
honor  and  integrity,  howsoever  distinguished  by  private 
persuasion  ;  Masonry  wisely  removes  such  distinctions,  and 
by  uniting  all  countries,  sects  and  principles  into  one 
inseparable  band  of  affection,  conciliates  true  friendship, 
and  effectuates  the  noble  purpose  of  making  each  other 
happy,  and  rejoicing  in  each  other's  felicity. 

Hence  disputes  on  religion  and  politics  are  never  suffered 
to  interrupt  the  friendly  intercourse  of  our  regular  assem- 
blies. These  are  designed  to  improve  the  mind,  correct  tho 
morals,  and  reform  the  judgment. 

Your  experience  in  life  has  no  doubt  made  familiar  to 
you  the  three  great  duties  of  morality ;  to  God,  your 
neighbor,  and  yourself ;  which  I  hope  your  new  character, 
as  a  Freemason,  will  still  more  deeply  imprint  upon  your 
mind,  and  render  your  conduct  not  only  regular  and  uni- 
form, but  in  every  other  respect  agreeable  to  the  dignity  of 
this  laudable  profession , 


MASONIC      COUNSEL 


As  a  Mason,  you  are  cheerfully  to  conform  to  the  govern- 
ment under  which  you  live  ;  to  consider  the  interest  of  the 
community  as  your  own ;  and  be  ready  on  all  occasions  to 
give  proofs  of  loyalty  and  affection  to  your  country. 

Benevolence  and  charity,  being  the  renowned  character- 
istics of  Masonry,  you  are  to  cherish  and  promote ;  and 
though  you  ought  ever  liberally  to  contribute  to  alleviate  the 
miseries  of  the  wretched,  yet  you  are  more  particularly  to 
extend  your  pity  to  a  poor  brother,  whose  unhappy  circum- 
staocee  may  oblige  him  to  solicit  your  friendly  assistance ; 
ever  remembering  that  period  of  your  life  when  you  were 
introduced  into  Masonry,  *  *  *  *  *  on  which,  if  you  but  for 
a  moment  n-fltvt,  it  cannot  fail  making  you  so  far  benevolent 
as  never  to  shut  your  ear  unkindly  to  the  complaints  of  the 
wretched.  But  when  a  poor  brother  is  oppressed  by  want, 
you  will,  in  a  particular  manner,  listen  to  his  sufferings  with 
attention,  in  consequence  of  which  pity  will  flow  from  your 
breast,  and  relief  according  to  your  capacity. 

The  solemnity  of  our  ceremonies  will  ever  require  from 
you  a  serious  deportment,  and  strict  attention  to  the  eluci- 
dating of  those  emblems  and  hieroglyphics  under  which  our 
mysteries  are  couched. 

And  as  order  and  regularity  cannot  fail  to  render  per- 
manent the  harmony  of  this  lodge,  it  is  expected  you  will 
be  obedient  to  the  Master  and  presiding  officers,  and  be 
particularly  careful  never  to  introduce  any  discourse  that 
•nay  tend  to  violate  your  character  as  a  gentleman  or  a 
Mason,  or  to  depreciate  those  virtues  that  always  adorn  an 
honest  mind. 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  203 

If,  therefore,  from  among  your  friends  or  acquaintance, 
you  should  hereafter  propose  a  candidate  for  our  mysteries, 
I  would  earnestly  recommend  that  you  know  him  to  be 
worthy  ;  and  never  from  a  pecuniary  or  ungenerous  motive 
endeavor  to  introduce  any  but  a  man  of  honor  and  integrity, 
whose  character  as  well  as  principle  justly  entitles  him  to 
the  privileges  of  this  fraternity. 

To  expatiate  on  the  necessity  of  a  close  application  to  the 
duties  of  Masonry  will,  I  presume,  be  needless,  as  I  doubt 
not  but  your  own  experience  will  soon  evince  the  real  value 
and  utility  of  this  science,  and  the  excellency  of  its  pre- 
cepts. 

I  shall  therefore  conclude  this  address,  in  a  sure  expecta- 
tion of  your  implicit  obedience  to  the  foregoing  circum- 
stances, as  well  for  your  own  honor  as  the  credit  of  this 
lodge,  and  that  you  will  cheerfully  conform  to  all  those 
salutary  laws  which  are,  and  ever  have  been,  the  established 
basis  *»*>d  support  of  the  royal 


-04  MASONIC      COUNSEL. 


A  PRAYER  TO  BS  USED  AT  THE   ADMISSION  OF  A 
BROTHER. 

O  MOST  glorious  and  eternal  God,  who  art  the  (' 
Architect  of  the  created  universe,  grant  unto  us,  thy  ser- 
vants, who  have  already  entered  ourselves  into  this  most 
noble,  ancient,  and  honorable  fraternity,  that  we  may  In- 
solid  and  thoughtful,  and  always  have  a  remembrance  of 
those  sacred  and  holy  things  we  have  taken  on  us,  and 
endeavor  to  instruct  and  inform  each  other  in  secrecy,  that 
nothing  may  be  unlawfully  or  illegally  obtained ;  and  that 
this  person,  who  is  now  to  be  made  a  Mason,  may  be  a 
worthy  member;  and  may  he,  and  all  of  us,  live  as  nu-n, 
considering  the  great  end  for  which  thy  goodness  has 
created  us ;  and  do  thou,  O  God,  give  us  wisdom  to  con- 
trive in  all  our  doings,  strength  to  support  in  all  difficulties. 
and  beauty  to  adorn  those  heavenly  mansions  where  thy 
honor  dwells;  and  grant,  O  Lord,  that  we  may  agree 
together  in  Brotherly  Love  and  Charity  one  towards 
another,  and  in  all  our  dealings  in  the  world  do  justice  to 
all  men,  love  mercy,  and  walk  humbly  with  thee,  our  God  ; 
and,  at  last,  may  an  abundant  entrance  be  administered 
unto  us  into  thy  kingdom,  O  great  Jehovah.  Now  unto 
the  King  eternal,  immortal,  invisible,  the  only  wise  God,  be 
kingdom,  power,  and  glory,  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. 


MASONIC      COUNSEL.  206 


ANOTHER  PRAYER. 

Me  ST  holy  and  glorious  Lord  God,  thou  Architect  of 
heaven  *nd  earth,  who  art  the  giver  of  all  good  graces,  and 
hath  promised  that  where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  thy  name,  thou  wilt  be  in  the  midst  of  them ; 
in  thy  name  we  assemble  and  meet  together,  most  humbly 
beseeching  thee  to  bless  us  in  all  our  undertakings,  to  give 
us  thy  Holy  Spirit,  to  enlighten  our  minds  with  wisdom  and 
understanding,  that  we  may  know  and  serve  thee  aright, 
that  all  our  doings  may  tend  to  thy  glory  and  to  the  salva- 
tion of  our  souls :  and  we  beseech  thee,  O  Lord  God,  to 
bless  this  our  present  undertaking,  and  to  grant  that  this 
our  Brother  may  dedicate  his  life  to  thy  service,  and  be  a 
true  and  faithful  Brother  among  us :  endue  him  with 
divine  wisdom,  that  he  may,  with  the  secrets  of  Masonry, 
be  able  to  unfold  the  mysteries  of  Godliness  and  Christi- 
anity. Amen. 


A  PRAYER  AT  THE   EMPOINTING-   OF  A  BROTHER, 
Used  in  the  Reign  of  Edward  IV. 

THE  mighty  God  and  Father  of  heaven,  with  the  wisdom 
of  his  glorious  Son,  through  the  goodness  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
that  hath  been  three  persons  in  one  Godhead,  be  with  us  at 
our  beginning,  give  us  grace  to  govern  in  our  living  here, 
that  we  may  come  to  his  bliss  that  shall  never  have  an 
end. 


£06      MASONRY     A     UNIVERSAL     RELIGION. 


XAU11Y  A  WIITlltAX  13I18IOI. 

THAT  Masonry  is  an ' universal  religion,  known  to  all 
nations  by  the  same  symbols  or  language,  is  a  common  re- 
mark which  many  of  us  have  seen  exemplified.  I  have  seen 
the  Turk  or  Algerine  known,  protected,  and  escorted  through 
our  country  as  brethren.  I  have  seen  the  African  captive 
ised  from  prison  and  maintained  at  liberty,  on  his 
Masonic  parole,  because  he  was  an  entered  apprentice  only  ! 
I  know  a  sea-captain  who  was  impressed  from  his  vessel, 
and  compelled  to  defend  a  fort  expected  hourly  to  be  at- 
tacked by  storm,  in  which  case  he  was  sure  of  double  ven- 
geance for  fighting  against  a  people  with  whom  the  United 
States  were  at  peace.  Aware  of  his  peril,  he  tried  the 
effect  of  Masonry,  until  his  language  was  understood  by  an 
officer  of  the  garrison,  who  framed  a  pretext  for  taking 
him  from  his  post,  and  led  him  at  the  dusk  of  evening  to 
the  shore,  and  left  him  to  escape  to  his  vessel,  where  he 
wms  successfully  concealed  from  daily  search  till  the  danger 
was  over. 

I  remember,  too,  the  story  of  two  brothers,  related  by 
their  father.  The  eldest  was  a  Mason,  and  master  of  a 
Tessel.  The  youngest  being  about  to  sail  with  him,  he  ad- 
vised him  to  be  initiated  into  the  arcana  of  Freemasonry, 
as  useful  to  him  in  cases  that  might  occur  while  abroad  and 


MASCNRY     A     UNIVERSAL     RELIGION.      207 

among  strangers.  The  young  man,  however,  declined  the 
matter,  as  of  no  consequence.  On  their  passage  to  the 
West  Indies,  they  were  taken  by  a  French  privateer,  and 
their  vessel  sent  into  Guadaloupe.  Being  brought  on  board 
the  privateer,  the  eldest  endeavored  to  make  himself  known 
as  a  Mason  to  the  captain,  who  affected  to  consider  his 
attempts  as  intended  to  excite  the  crew  to  mutiny,  and  put 
him  in  irons  for  his  pains,  and  carried  him  into  port  in  that 
condition.  On  arriving  at  Guadaloupe,  he  was  thrust  into 
the  common  filthy  prison,  among  a  crowd  of  felons  of  all 
colors  and  descriptions.  "So  much,"  said  the  younger, 
"  for  being  a  Freemason !  Do  you  now  think  I  was  a  fool 
for  not  joining  your  lodge  ?  "  The  next  day,  however,  the 
elder,  by  narrowly  watching  at  a  little  window  of  the  prison, 
and  inquiring  by  the  silent  aid  of  Masonry  of  the  passers- 
by  and  spectators,  was  perceived  by  a  brother  ;  and  in  less 
than  an  hour  taken  out  of  the  jail,  by  order  of  Victor 
Hughes,  and  placed  at  a  hotel  on  a  liberal  allowance ;  while 
his  young  companion  remained  in  confinement  upon  the 
scanty  and  damaged  rations  of  common  prisoners,  until 
released  in  a  short  time  at  the  solicitation  of  his  initiated 
brother.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  the  young 
man,  on  his  return  to  Connecticut,  took  care  to  be  made  a 
Mason  before  he  went  to  sea  again. 

I  saw  two  men  in  a  quarrel — reasor  religion,  and  every 
other  motive  was  urged  in  vain  :  one  of  the  parties,  a  naval 
officer  from  the  South,  who  had  challenged  his  Eastern  ad- 
versary and  been  refused,  was  perfectly  intoxicated  with 
rage,  and  struck  about  him  like  a  fury,  until  a  Masonic 


106      MASONRY     A     UNIVERSAL     RELIGION. 

finger  from  the  little  object  of  his  vengeance,  like  the 
talismanic  wand  of  a  magician,  or  a  shock  of  electricity, 
hushed  him  to  peace,  And  soon  restored  him  to  friendship. 
Not  then  being  one  of  the  fraternity  myself,  I  believed 
Masonry,  from  its  effects,  to  be  a  good  thing ;  and  I  have 
since  been  enabled  by  experience  to  say  Probatum  est. 

Between  the  years  1740  and  1750  the  Freemasons  were 
subject  to  great  persecutions  in  Portugal.  A  jeweller  of 
the  name  of  Moutou  was  seized  and  confined  in  the  prison 
of  the  Inquisition ;  and  a  friend  of  his,  John  Coustos,  a 
native  of  Switzerland,  was  also  arrested.  The  fact  was, 
that  these  two  persons  were  the  leading  Freemasons  in 
Lisbon,  which  constituted  their  crime.  Coustos  was  con- 
fined in  a  lonely  dungeon,  whose  horrors  were  heightened 
by  the  complaints,  the  dismal  cries,  and  hollow  groans,  of 
several  other  prisoners  in  the  adjoining  cells.  He  was  fre- 
quently brought  before  the  inquisitors,  who  were  anxious  to 
extort  from  him  the  secrets  of  Masonry ;  but  refusing  to 
give  any  information,  he  was  confined  in  a  still  deeper  and 
more  horrible  dungeon.  Finding  threats,  entreaties,  and 
remonstrances  in  vain,  Coustos  was  condemned  to  the  tor- 
tures of  the  holy  office. 

He  was,  thereupon,  conveyed  to  the  torture-room,  where 
no  light  appeared  but  what  two  candles  gave  First  they 
put  round  his  neck  an  iron  collar,  which  was  fastened  to 
the  scaffold  ;  they  then  fixed  a  ring  to  each  foot ;  and  this 
being  done,  they  stretched  his  limbs  with  all  their  might. 
They  next  tied  two  ropes  round  each  arm,  and  two  round 
each  thigh  ;  which  ropes  passed  under  the  scaffold,  through 


MASONRY     A     UNIVERSAL     RELIGION.      209 

• 

holes  made  for  that  purpose.  These  ropes,  which  were  of 
the  size  of  one's  little  finger,  pierced  through  his  flesh  quite 
to  the  bone,  making  the  blood  gush  out  at  eight  different 
places  that  were  so  bound. 

Finding  that  the  tortures  above  described  could  not  extort 
any  discovery  from  him,  they  were  so  inhuman,  six  weeks 
after,  as  to  expose  him  to  another  kind  of  torture,  more 
grievous,  if  possible,  than  the  former.  They  made  him 
stretch  his  arms  in  such  a  manner,  that  the  palms  of  his 
hands  were  turned  outward ;  when  by  the  help  of  a  rope 
that  fastened  them  together  at  the  wrist,  and  which  they 
turned  by  an  engine,  they  drew  them  nearer  to  one  another 
behind  in  such  a  manner,  that  the  back  of  each  hand 
touched,  and  stood  exactly  parallel  one  on  the  other ;  where- 
by both  his  shoulders  were  dislocated,  and  a  quantity  of 
blood  issued  from  his  mouth.  This  torture  was  repeated 
thrice ;  after  which  he  was  again  sent  to  his  dungeon,  and 
put  into  the  hands  of  physicians  and  surgeons,  who,  in  set- 
ting his  bones,  put  him  to  exquisite  pain. 

In  the  year  1748,  Monsieur  Preverot,  a  gentleman  in  the 
navy,  was  shipwrecked  on  an  island,  whose  viceroy  was  a 
Freemason.  In  his  destitute  condition,  he  presented  him- 
self to  the  viceroy,  and  related  his  misfortunes  in  a  manner 
which  completely  proved  that  he  was  no  impostor.  The 
viceroy  made  the  Masonic  signs,  which  being  instantly  re- 
turned by  the  Frenchman,  they  recognised  and  embraced 
each  other  as  brethren  of  the  same  order.  The  viceroy 
loaded  him  with  presents,  and  gave  him  as  much  money  as 
was  necessary  for  carrying  him  into  his  native  country. 


210      MASONRY    A     UNIVERSAL     RELIGION. 

In  the  battle  of  Dettingcn.  in  174^5  one  of  the  king's 
guards  having  his  horse  killed  under  him,  was  so  entangled 
among  its  limbs  that  he  was  unable  to  extricate  himself. 
While  he  was  in  this  situation,  an  English  dragoon  gal- 
loped up  to  him,  and,  with  his  uplifted  sabre,  was  about  to 
dqirive  him  of  life.  The  French  soldier  having,  with  much 
difficulty,  made  the  signs  of  Masonry,  the  dragoon  recog- 
niied  him  as  a  brother,  and  not  only  saved  his  life,  but  freed 
him  from  his  dangerous  situation. 

A  Scottish  gentleman,  in  the  Prussian  service,  was  taken 
prisoner  at  the  battle  of  Lutzen,  and  was  conveyed  to 
Prague,  along  with  four  hundred  of  his  companions  in  arms. 
As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  he  was  a  Mason,  he  was  re- 
leased from  confinement ;  he  was  invited  to  the  tables  of 
the  most  distinguished  citizens,  and  requested  to  consider 
himself  as  a  Freemason,  and  not  as  a  prisoner  of  war. 

During  the  American  revolution,  a  citizen  on  board  a 
privateer  was  captured  by  the  British,  and  the  whole  crew 
imprisoned  at  Edinburgh.  The  following  night  after  their 
imprisonment  a  lodge  held  its  communication  near  the 
prison.  During  the  time  of  refreshment,  some  of  the 
brethren  visited  the  prisoners.  This  American  manifested 
himself  to  be  a  Mason,  and  was  recognized  as  such.  Dur- 
ing the  same  evening  he  was  permitted  to  visit  the  lodge, 
and  associate  with  the  craft.  By  the  friendly  aid  of  the 
brethren  he  was  liberated  from  confinement,  had  the  free- 
dom of  the  city,  and  shortly  after  was  sent  back  to  his 
country  and  family. 

A  Masonic  brother,  who  escaped  from  Ireland  during 


MASONRY     A     UNIVERSAL      RELIGON.       211 

their  last  national  difficulties,  protected  the  whole   crew 
from  a  pirate,  by  his  knowledge  of  Masonry. 

An  American  was  on  board  a  British  vessel  on  a  passage 
to  Europe.  The  vessel  was  captured  and  taken  to  Brest. 
This  was  at  the  time  when  Bonaparte  was  in  possession  of 
Egypt.  The  crew,  therefore,  was  sent  to  Alexandria,  and 
put  into  close  confinement.  A  man  was  seen  to  pass  the 
street  by  the  prison,  wearing  a  sash  of  many  colors.  The 
American,  believing  it  to  be  a  Masonic  badge,  wanted 
nothing  but  an  opportunity  to  make  himself  known  as  a 
Mason.  Soon,  however,  it  happened  the  same  person, 
wearing  the  same  sash,  came  to  the  prison.  This  person 
proved  to  be  the  principal  officer  of  the  city,  and  recog- 
nizing the  American  as  t  Mason,  took  him  to  his  own  house, 
paid  his  passage  in  the  first  vessel,  gave  him  sixty  crowns, 
and  dismissed  him.  Who  would  not  wish,  for  humanity's 
sake,  principles  which  -produce  such  an  effect  might  be 
more  generally  understood  1 


GOD  suffers  men  to  partake  of  unlimited  and  eternal  hap- 
piness. Strive  to  resemble  this  divine  original,  by  making 
all  mankind  as  happy  as  thou  canst ;  nothing  good  can  be 
imagined,  which  ought  not  to  be  an  object  of  thy  activity. 
Let  effectual  and  universal  benevolence  be  the  plumbline 
of  thy  actions.  Anticipate  the  cries  of  the  miserable,  or, 
at  least,  do  not  remain  insensible  to  them. 


212  SHIBBOLETH 


•BIBSflBIB. 

(See  Judges  xii,  4-6.) 

THEN  Jephthah  gathered  together  all  the  men  of  Gilead, 
and  fought  with  Ephraim :  and  the  men  of  Gilead  smote 
Ephraim,  because  they  said,  "  Ye  Gileadites  are  fugitives 
of  Ephraim  among  the  Ephraimites,  and  among  the  Ma- 
nassites." 

And  the  Gileadites  took  the  passages  of  Jordan  before 
the  Ephraimites :  and  it  was  so,  that  when  those  Ephraim- 
ites which  were  escaped  said,  "  Let  me  go  over  ;"  that  the 
men  of  Gilead  said  unto  him,  "  Art  thou  an  Ephrairaite  1" 
If  he  said,  "Nay?" 

Then  said  they  unto  him,  "  Say  now  Shibboleth ;"  and 
he  said  "  Sibboleth :"  for  he  could  not  frame  to  pronounce 
it  right.  Then  they  took  him  and  slew  him  at  the  pas- 
sages of  Jordan.  And  there  fell  at  that  time  of  the 
Ephraimites  forty  and  two  thousand. 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  213 


A    ROMANCE    IN    MINIATURE. 

BY     JAMES     ADAIR. 
VOL  UM  E      I  . 

THE  setting  .sun  of  a  beautiful  summer  evening  had 
withdrawn  its  last  golden  rays  from  the  western  lattices 
of  a  small  castlleated  mansion,  whose  broken  defences,  and 
otherwise  dilapidated  appearance,  told  too  plainly  that  the 
rank  of  its  inhabitants  had  survived  their  fortunes;  and 
that,  in  their  case,  pride,  with  its  wonted  tenacity,  was 
still  clinging  to  certain  attributes  of  greatness  which  pru- 
dence would  have  long  since  abandoned.  And  this  im- 
pression was  confirmed  rather  than  dissipated,  by  a  glance 
at  those,  who,  at  the  moment,  occupied  its  principal  apart- 
ment. These  consisted  only  of  one  gentleman  and  lady, 
and  a  very  aged  female  domestic ;  that  is,  if  we  do  not 
choose  to  extend  the  limited  circle  by  mentioning  two 

*  This  entertaining  and  exceedingly  well-written  Tale  has  been  kindly  fur- 
nished  us  by  an  old  and  valued  friend.  We  do  not  know  that  such  announcement, 
on  our  part,  will  be  of  any  great  interest  to  the  public  ;  but  we  make  it  with  the 
hope  that  our  readers  may  take  some  pains  to  become  also,  in  a  literary  sense  at 
least,  acquainted  with  our  friend.  A  gentlemen  with  his  genius  and  talents 
should  not  be  neglected  ;  and  we  are  sure,  that,  if  he  would  appear  before  the 
public  oftener,  he  would  be  appreciated  in  a  manner  both  creditable  to  that 
public  and  pecuniarily  profitable  to  himself.  P.  D 


214  CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 

large  and  beautiful  specimens  of  the  Irish  wolf-dog.  Tht 
gentleman  was  apparently  upwards  of  fitty,  but  still 
straight  and  soldier-like;  and  though  his  costume  was 
soiled,  overworn,  and  apparently  neglected,  yet  no  on^ 
could  regard  him  even  for  a  moment,  and  doubt  that  he 
stood  in  the"  presence  of  a  gentleman  born  and  bred.  The 
lady  appeared  to  be  about  seven  years  younger,  and 
changed  and  faded  though  she  was,  enough  still  remained 
to  convince  the  beholder,  that,  at  an  earlier  period  of  life, 
she  must  have  been  very  beautiful.  At  present,  however, 
her  face  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  an  expression  of  deep 
and  fixed  melancholy,  perchance  the  legacy  of  wounded 
pride  or  deep  domestic  affliction. 

At  some  brief  remark  of  her  companion's,  she  turned 
from  the  window,  whence  she  had  probably  been  watching 
the  setting  sun,  and  notwithstanding  an  effort  to  conceal 
the  circumstance,  it  became  evident  that  she  had  been  in 
tears. 

"  Weeping  again,  Kathleen?"  exclaimed  the  gentleman, 
in  a  tone  of  somewhat  bitter  reproof.  "  Methinks  that 
even  a  regard  for  my  feelings,  knowing  them  as  you  do, 
might  prevent  your  indulging  this  unavailing  despondency." 

The  tears  which  had  been  put  under  momentary  restraint 
now  flowed  free  and  copiously.  "  I  am  deeply  sensible," 
she  replied,  "  how  much  I  deserve  your  censure.  You,  at 
least,  should  be  exempted  from  any  mortification  through 
my  unhappy  melancholy — you,  who  never  once  gave  me 
cause  to  shed  a  tear,  unless  it  were  those  of  admiration  and 
gratitude ;  yet,  my  dear  Constantino,  yourself  will  admit 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  216 

that  I  have  had  some  cause  for  weeping.  And  when  I 
remind  you  (that  is,  if  you  can  have  forgotten  it,)  that  this 
is  the  twenty-ninth  of  June,  by  a  mysterious  coincidence 
at  once  the  anniversary  of  the  most  blissful  and  most 
sorrowful  events  in  my  deeply-checkered  existence,  you 
will,  I  am  sure,  forgive  my  present  agitation.  Oh  this  day, 
twenty-five  years  ago,  and  just  about  this  very  hour,  I  gave 
my  hand  to  the  dear  object  of  my  young  heart's  choice, 
amid  the  congratulations  of  powerful  friends  and  the 
plaudits  of  faithful  and  numerous  retainers  :  on  the  first 
anniversary  of  that  auspicious  event,  the  first  dear  pledge 
of  our  deep  and  mutual  affection  came  upon  this  wickrd 
and  inconstant  world  :  and  on  the  self-same,  to  us,  eventful 
twenty-ninth  of  June,  her  seventeenth  birth-day,  did — 
did—" 

"  Did  that  most  wretched  and  unfortunate  offspring  fly  a 
rebellious  and  ungrateful  fugitive  from  her  father's  roof ; 
and  on  the  same  fatal  anniversary  has  she  returned  to  ask 
forgiveness — and  to  die  /" 

The  latter  portion  of  the  foregoing  detail  was  supplied 
by  an  apparition  whose  appearance,  even  among  more 
indifferent  spectators,  must  have  been  peculiarly  affecting. 
It  was  a  female  still  young  and  beautiful,  though  much 
wasted  and  travel-worn,  who,  with  hair  loose  and  dishev- 
elled, eyes  streaming  and  upturned,  and  dragging  by  the 
hand  a  fair  but  terrified  boy  of  about  six  years  old,  now 
rushed  into  the  apartment,  and  flung  herself  at  the  lady's 
feet. 

"  Mother  !  mother !"  she  continued,  passionately  clasping 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 


the  knees  of  her  before  whom  she  had  prostrated  herself, 
"  have  I  then  Indeed  lived  to  hear  again  that  beloved  voice, 
or  is  it  but  a  dream,  like  those  that  used  to  mock  my 
frenzy  in  the  far  and  pestilential  lands  !" 

The  appeal  of  the  distracted  suppliant  was  not  made  in 
vain.     The  joy  as  well  as  the  forgiveness  of  the  h 
broken  mother  was  fully  and  unequivocally  expressed  in 
the  simple  but  eloquent,   and  oft-repeated  exclamation  — 
"My  beloved  child!" 

The  reconciliation,  however,  was  still  solely  confined  to 
the  mother  and  the  daughter,  as  the  sterner  father  had  not 
as  yet  either  changed  his  position  or  spoken  a  single  word  ; 
and  the  child,  so  soon  as  he  had  been  released  from  the  hold 
of  his  mother,  retreated  towards  the  door,  and  assuming  his 
full  height,  witnessed  the  entire  scene  with  an  expression 
of  countenance  whic^  told  plainly  enough  that  he,  at  leaf} 
was  not  a  willing  intruder  :  and  this  line  of  conduct  on  his 
part  exercised,  in  all  probability,  a  more  powerful  effect  on 
the  feelings  of  his  haughty  relative  than  even  the  distracted 
repentance  of  an  unfortunate  daughter  ;  as,  after  surveying 
him  a  moment,  he  told  him  to  come  forward,  and  not  to  be 
afraid. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  said  the  noble  boy,  proudly,  "  but  I 
want  my  mother  to  come  away." 

"It  is  now  too  late,  my  poor  child,  to  journey  farther  : 
come  forward  and  tell  me  your  name." 

"  Father  !  dear  father  !"  interposed  the  wretched  peni 
tent,    hastily    disengaging    herself    from    the    tenacious 
embraces  of  her  mother,  and  casting  herself  at  the  feet  of 


CONSTANTINE     T4.LBOT.  217 

him  whom  she  addressed,  "  do  not  ask  him  his  name,  for  I 
dare  not  suffer  him  to  tell  it.  He  was  born  and  baptized  in 
a  foreign  land — and  I  never  thought  he  would  see  your 
face — and  you  know  how  dearly  I  always  loved  you — and 
in  short,  I  could  not  help  it — and  I  never  wish — " 

"  She  named  the  child  after  its  father,"  interrupted  the 
mother.  "  It  was  at  least  natural — " 

"  No,  no,  mother ! — not  after  its  father,  but  after  my 
own !  And,  my  dear  parents,  you  need  not  shrink  from 
him  under  the  impression  that  there  was  dishonor  on  his 
birth.  Your  daughter  might  be  weak,  but  not  infamous. 
She  left  her  father's  house,  a  lawfully  wedded  wife." 

This  only  was  wanting  to  render  the  joyful  surprise  com- 
plete. The  lost  one  had  not  only  been  found,  but  with  her 
had  returned  the  honor  of  a  proud  though  decayed  house. 
Never  was  the  fatted  calf  more  cheerfully  sacrificed,  nor 
ever  did  a  few  wasted  retainers  more  heartily  respond  to 
the  feudal  summons  that  bade  them  rejoice  and  make  merry 
with  their  lord. 

The  story  of  the  wanderer  was  soon  told,  though  it 
differed  essentially  from  that  of  the  thousands  who,  listening 
to  the  importunities  of  passion  and  the  protestations  of  the 
stranger,  rush  from  the  sanctuary  of  the  parental  roof, 
without  the  parental  consent,  or  the  parental  blessing. 
Though  she  had,  with  the  characteristic  waywardness  of 
her  years  and  sex,  given  her  heart  to  the  Saxon  stranger, 
the  avowed  enemy  of  her  kindred  and  of  her  country,  yet 
did  her  history  lack  the  usual  staple,  of  love  cloyed  by  pos- 
session, and  of  a  change  of  deportment  accompanying  a 


218  CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 

change  of  place.  On  the  contrary,  so  far  as  a  clandestine 
connexion  could  be  so  designated,  theirs  throughout  had 
been  a  peculiarly  honorable  one.  They  had  been  married 
by  a  clergyman  of  her  own  communion  some  time  before 
their  elopement,  and  the  vows  then  pronounced  and 
registered  appeared  to  have  been  faithfully  and  cheerfully 
observed.  And  their  premature  dissolution,  by  the  sudden 
and  violent  death  of  one  of  the  parties,  had  been  humbly, 
and  perhaps  justly,  attributed  by  the  bereaved  survivor,  to 
her  own  heartless  abandonment  of  those  to  whom  she  not 
only  owed  her  existence,  but  an  incalculable  amount  of  the 
most  gonerous  indulgence  and  the  most  devoted  love. 

Immediately  after  the  death  of  her  husband  she  had 
given  birth  to  a  daughter ;  but  on  her  own  unexpected 
recovery  from  a  dreadful  and  protracted  illness  which 
succeeded  that  event,  she  learned  that  the  little  innocent 
had  gone  to  a  better  world. 

Her  husband,  like  herself,  had  been  an  outcast  from  his 
family,  and  for  the  self-same  cause  ;  and  being,  therefore, 
solely  dependant  on  the  limited  emolument  of  a  subaltern's 
commission,  had,  of  course,  died  poor.  His  widow,  how- 
ever, had  been  prudent ;  and  after  defraying  the  expenses 
of  her  long  illness,  had  still  means  sufficient  to  procure  a 
passage  for  herself  and  child  to  her  native  country. 

The  narrative,  of  which  the  foregoing  is  an  outline, 
occupied  some  hours  in  the  recital,  and  when  it  was  con~ 
eluded,  had  it  not  been  for  the  presence  of  the  rosy  boy, 
the  whole  might  have  seemed,  even  to  the  principal  actor, 
the  fiction  of  a  sennachie  or  the  delusion  of  a  wild  and 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  219 

feverish  dream.  For  there  was  she  again  in  the  home  of 
her  youth  and  infancy,  and  surrounded  by  the  same  faces 
that  had  been  dear  and  familiar  through  both.  On  the 
whole,  both  to  the  long-bereaved  parents  and  the  long-lost 
child,  it  was  a  night  of  almost  unmixed  happiness,  and  as 
if  some  benign  influence  had  resolved  that  it  should  be 
really  such,  at  a  late  hour,  and  wholly  unexpected,  Gerald, 
the  only  son  and  brother,  who  was  page  of  honor  in  the 
household  of  the  great  Earl  of  Tyrone,  presented  himself 
in  their  midst. 

The  scenes  that  marked  the  earlier  part  of  the  evening 
were  again  briefly  reacted.  The  youthful  soldier,  so  soon 
as  he  was  satisfied  that  there  had  been  no  sacrifice  of  honor 
or  of  pride,  received  the  caresses  of  his  long-lost  sister,  and 
the  playmate  of  his  childhood,  with  unfeigned  delight ;  and 
those  who  beheld  the  high  animation  of  his  sunny  counte- 
nance, illumined,  as  it  was,  by  the  joyous  sparkle  of  his 
'bright  blue  eye,  little  dreamed  that  he  came  the  messenger 
of  evil  tidings,  though  such  unhappily  was  the  case. 

The  party,  with,  of  course,  the  one  exception,  broke  up, 
in  joy,  in  confidence,  and  in  peace  :  but  it  broke  up  never 
to  re-assemble.  Long  before  the  first  ray  of  the  morning 
had  kissed  the  Dalriadian  mountains,  the  father  and  son 
were  already  on  their  way  into  foreign  exile,  from  which 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  was  ever  destined  to  return. 

Thus  will  the  sun,  sometimes,  at  the  close  of  a  gloomy 
day,  gladden  with  a  brief  smile  the  landscape  which  his 
obscurity  had  already  made  bleak  and  desolate,  and  whicb 
he  is  now  about  to  abandon  to  total  darkness  ;  and  Fortune 


220  CONSTANTINE    TALJBOT. 

also  mock,  with  a  brief  and  treacherous  smile,  the  victims 
whom  she  had  long  persecuted,  and  whose  last  hope  she  is 
iust  about  to  extinguish  forever. 


VOLUME     II. 


THOSE  of  our  readers  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
history  of  the  British  Islands,  need  not  be  informed  that,  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  twelfth  century,  Ireland  was  partially 
subjugated  by  a  band  of  those  Norman,  or  rather  Anglo. 
Norman  adventurers  whose  ancestors  had,  some  time  before, 
usurped  the  sovereignty  of  England.  They  are  also  aware 
that,  notwithstanding  the  brilliant  exploits  of  the  warlike 
invaders,  powerfully  aided  as  they  were  by  the  celebrated 
King  of  Leinster,  and  other  faithless  chiefs,  the  greater 
portion  of  the  island  remained  still  unconquered,  and  the 
Anglo-Irish  colony,  or  territory  maintained  by  the  invaders, 
was  chiefly  confined  to  Leinster  and  that  part  of  the 
southern  province  that  lies  upon  the  eastern  coast. 

The  limits  of  this  territory,  which  was  politically  de- 
signated the  English  Pale,  were  far  from  being  either  sta- 
tionary or  well-defined,  but,  on  the  contrary,  were  constantly 
extending  or  contracting,  according  to  the  preponderance 
of  the  power  and  prowess  of  the  Irish  chiefs  and  English 
barons  that  successively  inhabited  the  stormy  frontier. 
And  the  uncertainty  of  this  tenure  is  made  pretty  evident 
by  the  fact,  that  the  latter  were  at  times  sufficiently 
powerful  to  carry  fire  and  sword  into  the  interior  recesses 
of  Ulster  and  Connaught,  and  at  others,  reduced  to  the 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  221 

degrading  necessity  of  paying  tribute,  or  as  it  is  now  called, 
black-mail,  to  the  princes,  or  mighty  men  of  those  pro- 
vinces, for  forbearance  and  protection.  And  this  state 
of  things  existed,  with  but  little  variation,  throughout  a 
succession  of  centuries,  and  a  series  of  dynasties,  extending 
from  the  period  when  England  was  ruled  by  the  Norman 
Plantagenet  till  the  time  that  her  sovereignty  devolved 
upon  the  Scottish  Stuart. 

During  the  reign  of  the  first  sovereign  of  the  last-men- 
tioned race,  and  after  the  downfall  of  that  first  and  last 
hope  of  his  country,  Hugh,  Earl  of  Tyrone,  Ulster  for  the 
first  time  was  forced  to  acknowledge  English  sovereignty, 
and  to  submit  to  the  government,  or  rather  misgovernment, 
vouchsafed  by  her  new  rulers  under  the  imposing  designa- 
tion of  "  British  law."  Yet  the  fact  of  the  existence,  for 
almost  five  centuries,  within  the  compass  of  a  small  island, 
of  two  chstinct  races,  differing  in  every  habit  and  feeling, 
except  reckless  valor  and  mutual  hostility,  though  of  itself 
sufficiently  pregnant  with  the  seeds  of  discord  and  devasta- 
tion, will  be  found,  upon  investigation,  neither  to  have  been 
the  sole,  nor  indeed  the  principal  cause  of  the  unparalleled 
amount  of  evil  that  accumulated  in  the  unhappy  country 
through  that  long  period.  And  those  evils  would  be 
attributed  with  equal  injustice,  either  to  the  heartless 
tyranny  of  the  English  Kings,  or  the  reckless  turbulence 
of  the  Irish  People ;  but  their  extent,  and  more  especially 
their  continuance,  will  be  found  in  the  simple  fact,  that 
those  who  were  successively  entrusted  with  the  task  of 
extending  and  consolidating  British  dominion  in  Ireland 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT 


had  a  direct  and  powerful  interest  in  disobeying  their 
orders.  They  were  well  enough  aware  that  the  interests 
both  of  their  king  and  country  were  best  secured  by  peace, 
but  they  were  equally  well  aware,  that  their  "  ain  poor 
peculiar,"  as  old  Twintippet  says,  throve  best  in  times 
of  commotion.  Persons  of  much  less  sagacity  could  easily 
foresee  that  if  the  Irish  chieftains  remained  at  peace  there 
would  be  no  further  pretext  for  plundering  them,  and  it  was 
therefore  no  uncommon  circumstance  for  the  representative 
of  English  royalty,  who  had  himself  been  especially  deputed 
by  his  sovereign  to  offer  conciliation  and  accept  submission, 
to  be  found  among  the  most  active  fomenters  of  rebellion. 

Among  the  numerous  victims  of  this  nefarious  system, 
the  most  prominent  and  important  was  the  forementioned 
Earl  of  Tyrone ;  an  individual  accidentally  uniting  in  his 
own  person  both  the  feudal  privileges  of  an  English  noble 
and  the  hereditary  honors  and  influence  of  an  Irish  prince. 

He  had  been  educated  in  England,;  had  served  in  the 
royal  army  ;  and  by  his  gallantry  and  accomplishments,  had 
found  such  favor  in  the  eyes  of  Elizabeth  as  induced  her 
to  restore  him  to  the  honors  and  estates  of  his  family,  which 
had  been  confiscated  through  the  turbulence  of  his  warlike 
uncle,  Shane  Dymas.  He  was  afterwards  forced  into  an 
unwilling  rebellion  by  the  calumny  and  insult  of  the  local 
authorities,  and  after  having  repeatedly  proved  himself 
more  than  a  match  for  England's  best  and  bravest,  he  was 
eventually  reduced  to  submission,  not,  however,  by  the 
swords  of  his  enemies,  but  by  the  combined  and  powerful 
influence  of  famine  and  treachery  among  his  friends. 


CONSTANTINE    TALBOT.  223 

As  his  name  "was  still  formidable,  and  his  talents  well 
known,  he  easily  obtained  a  reconciliation  with  the  new 
sovereign,  who  had  just  then  ascended  the  throne.  But 
neither  the  favor  of  the  monarch  nor  his  own  prudent  and 
peaceful  resolutions  could  protect  him  against  the  machina- 
tions of  those  who  had  long  before  marked  liim  for  sacrifice. 
A  paper  was  found  in  the  council  chamber,  in  the  Castle 
of  Dublin,  covertly  accusing  him  and  others  of  a  con- 
spiracy against  the  state ;  and  as  the  devoted  nobleman 
now  saw  that  his  ruin  was  not  only  contemplated,  "but 
compassed,  he  fled  precipitately  to  the  continent,  leaving 
the  country,  that  he  had  so  long  and  so  gallantly  defended, 
at  the  mercy  of  a  combination  of  the  most  crafty  and  cruel 
despoikrs  that  the  world  ever  beheld. 

The  somewhat  mysterious  conclusion  of  the  previous 
volume  is  now  easily  accounted  for.  The  parties  there 
introduced  had,  both  of  necessity  and  choice,  concluded  to 
share  the  exile  of  their  gallant  chief. 


VOLUME     III. 

IT  was  again  a  beautiful  evening  in  summer,  nay  it  was 
even  the  eventful  twenty-ninth  of  June  :  but  the  scene  was 
no  longer  that  of  grandeur,  whether  in  flourish  or  decay, 
nor  did  its  inhabitants  retain  the  slightest  vestige  of  even 
fallen  rank.  Yet  their  appearance  was  not  exactly  that 
of  the  common  vulgar,  nor  their  residence  altogether  the 
ordinary  home  of  the  mountain  peasant ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  the  appearance  of  both  possessed  that  sort 


CON8TANTINE     TALBOT 

of  nondescript  character,  neither  pertaining  to  the  high, 
the  low,  nor  the  middle  ranks  of  society.  They  agreed, 
however,  with  the  party  first  introduced  to  the  reader,  both 
as  to  number  and  that  air  of  settled  dejection  that  generally 
indicates  the  breaking  heart. 

But  although  these  circumstances  might,  at  any  time,  be 
sufficient  to  excite  a  painful  curiosity  as  to  their  history 
and  situation,  yet  at  no  other  period  than  the  present, 
would  the  beholder  have  ever  dreamed  of  discovering,  in  the 
wild  and  wo-begone  wretches  before  him,  the  proud  and 
high-born  acquaintance  of  a  former  period.  But  ten  years 
of  unparalleled  sorrow  and  suffering  had  since  passed  over 
the  devoted  country  and  her  crushed  and  expatriated 
inhabitants,  producing  such  a  scene  of  promiscuous  desola- 
tion as  had,  to  use  a  singular  expression,  actually  rendered 
wooden  no  longer  wonderful.  But  however  the  recollection 
of  these  circumstances  might  reconcile  us  to  the  identity 
of  the  two  wretched  females  with  the  mother  and  daughter 
introduced  at  the  commencement  of  our  little  history,  yet 
who  could  ever  recognise  in  the  gaunt  and  sL».ggy  young 
mountaineer,  their  companion,  the  gentle  and  io*y  boy 
whose  pride,  beauty,  and  high  bearing,  had  ao  quickly 
melted  the  heart  of  his  haughty  and  detera.kcd  grand- 
father !  But  as 

**  Summer  months  bring  wilding  shoot, 
From  bad  to  bloom,  from  bloom  to  fruit, 
And  years  draw  on  our  human  span, 
From  child  to  boy,  from  boy  to  man.'* 

the  period  that  had  since  elapsed  must  have  wrought  » 


CONSTANTINE     *   \LBOT.  226 

change  in  his  stature,  under  any  circumstances,  and  the 
same  trials  and  privations  that  had  so  deeply  set  their  seal 
upon  his  unfortunate  relatives,  could  scarcely  be  supposed 
to  have  left  him  scathless  : — At  all  events,  it  was  he ! 

We  have  said  that  it  was  again  the  twenty-ninth  of 
June,  and  strange  to  tell,  on  this  occasion,  as  on  so  many 
others,  this  eventful  day  had  brought  to  the  wasted  rem- 
nant of  this  unfortunate  family,  another  scene  of  perplexity 
and  excitement.  With  a  somewhat  singular  fatality  it  had 
been  the  birthday  of  the  son  as  well  as  of  the  unhappy 
mother,  and  now  on  its  sixteenth  anniversary,  this  child 
of  so  much  sorrow,  the  only  surviving  pledge  of  her  unfor- 
tunate marriage,  and  the  first  offspring  of  her  early  love, 
was  about  to  sever  the  last  tie  that  bound  his  unhappy 
parent  to  a  miserable  existence,  by  quitting  her  presence 
and  protection  for  the  purpose  of  trying  his  fortune  in  a 
world  that  had  been  so  uniformly  cruel  to  his  family. 

With  the  martial  spirit  of  his  warlike  ancestry,  he  pre- 
ferred the  profession  of  a  soldier  to  that  of  a  shepherd,  for 
he  had  no  other  choice,  and  in  the  prosecution  of  that 
resolve,  it  was  a  matter  still  to  be  decided  whether  he 
should  offer  his  services  to  a  government  that  he  had  too 
good  reason  to  regard  as  the  cause  of  his  own  distress,  and 
that  of  his  nearest  and  dearest,  or  join  the  band  of  a  des- 
perate outlaw,  who,  since  the  fall  of  the  celebrated  Sir 
Caher  Roe  O'Dougherty,  had  maintained  himself  in  the 
neighboring  mountains  against  all  the  force  that  the  govern- 
ment could  send  against  him.  The  mother  favored  the 
former  idea  as  being  the  more  safe,  or  at  least  the  lesa 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 


desperate,  bat  the  feelings  of  the  youth  himself  were 
decidedly  disposed  towards  the  latter,  probably  because 
of  its  affording  a  wider  and  wilder  field  for  the  exercise 
of  his  naturally  reckless  and  romantic  daring,  or  it  might 
be  on  account  of  its  promising  the  shortest  way  to  the  ful- 
filment of  some  long-cherished  and  desperate  purpose  of 
revenge.  For  although  the  son  of  an  English  soldier,  nay,, 
even  himself  having  been  born  in  a  British  camp,  and 
though  still  perfectly  aware  of  the  circumstance,  he  had  no 
longer  any  sympathy  with  the  land  of  his  nativity,  but  was 
now,  to  use  the  language  applied  to  others  of  his  "  degene- 
rate" countrymen,  in  his  every  feeling  and  sympathy,  even 
"more  Irish  than  the  Irish  themselves."  But  on  this 
subject  we  will  permit  the  youth  to  speak  a  few  words  for 
himself. 

"  How  can  you,"  he  exclaimed,  in  answer  to  the  solicita- 
of  his  weeping  mother,  and  in  a  tone  of  impatience 
almost  to  asperity,  "  recommend  me,  the  last 
of  your  race,  to  draw  the  sword  of  my  ancestors  in  support 
of  that  accursed  government  which  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  the  instrument  of  God's  vengeance  against  this 
devoted  country  ?  How,  I  repeat,  can  you,  whose  family 
those  miscreants  have  brought  from  the  rank  of  princes  to 
herd  and  shelter  with  the  wolves  and  ravens  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  whose  noble  father  and  brave  brother  they  have 
hunted  into  foreign  graves,  ask  your  only  child  to  con- 
summate ruin  with  disgrace,  and  lick  the  hands  that  are 
still  red  with  the  blood  of  his  and  your  kindred  ?  Mother, 
I  have  always  loved  you  with  tenderness,  and  obeyed  you 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  227 

with  deference,  and  least  of  all  at  this  moment  would  I  part 
from  you  in  displeasure  or  disobedience;  but  do  not,  I 
conjure  you,  put  my  love  and  respect  for  you  to  such  a  test 
as  this !" 

But  the  perseverance  of  the  woman  and  the  anxiety  of 
the  mother  were  proof  against  even  this  passionate  appeal. 
She  knew  her  influence,  and  she  exerted  it.  To  what  pur- 
pose may  be  learned  from  the  following  singular  proposition, 
evidently  extorted  from  him  upon  whom  that  influence  had 
been  so  powerfully  brought  to  bear. 

"  Hear  me,  then,"  he  exclaimed,  passionately ;  "  for 
four  sake,  and  the  sake  of  your  parting  blessing,  I  will 
offer  a  compromise :  I  will  leave  the  issue  of  this  unhappy 
controversy  to  the  decision  of  fate.  This  is  my  birthday, 
and  moreover,  it  is  that  day  of  the  year  which  my  poor 
grandmother  says  is  so  mysteriously  connected  with  the 
history  of  our  hapless  family;  and  here  is  my  father's 
sword.  You  have  often  told  me,  that  although  an  English- 
man, he  was  a  brave,  generous,  and  true-hearted  soldier, 
and  his  sword  (all  that  remains  which  was  his,)  would  not 
point  out  to  his  only  son  the  path  of  dishonor.  I  will  now 
twirl  it  high  in  the  air,  and  if,  when  fallen,  it  points  to  the 
east,  I  will  proceed  forthwith  to  the  camp  of  the  stranger, 
but  if  to  the  west,  I  will  as  assuredly  seek  out  the  strong- 
hold of  the  "  Red  Tanist."  At  the  first  trial,  the  point 
of  the  weapon  sunk  deep  in  the  soft  earth,  but  at  the 
second  and  third,  it  pointed  directly  to  the  Saxon  camp. 


CONSTANTINE     TA^BOT. 


VOLUME      IV. 

THE  very  circumscribed  limits  of  our  fragmentary  nar- 
rative compel  us  to  cast  to  the  winds  a  considerable  portion 
of  our  materials  at  almost  every  resting-place.  We  must, 
therefore,  now  pass  on  to  a  period  wlu-n  the  fierce  and 
uncouth  stripling,  of  whom  we  took  leave  at  the  end  of  the 
last  volume,  had  become  a  famous  and  accomplished 
soldier,  and  stood  high  in  the  favor  and  confidence  of  his 
comraander-in-chief.  But  unfortunately,  perhaps,  for  all 
the  parties  concerned,  the  same  romantic  deed  of  daring 
which  had  so  suddenly  elevated  the  young  soldier  to  this 
enviable  position,  had  also  obtained  for  him  the  more 
dangerous,  if  not  less  enviable,  distinction  of  holding  a  high 
place  in  the  affections  of  his  lordly  patron's  heiress  and 
only  child.  And  certainly  our  youthful  acquaintance  was 
not  of  a  temperament  the  most  likely  to  induce  its  owner  to 
tamely  abandon  a  lofty  and  tempting  enterprise  merely  on 
account  of  the  difficulties,  or  even  dangers,  that  might 
chance  to  stand  in  the  way.  An  office  of  high  trust  and 
importance  in  the  household,  and  about  the  person  of  the 
father,  included,  or,  at  least,  was  made  to  include,  occa- 
sional attendance  upon  the  daughter  also :  and  we  believe 
it  no  imputation  upon  his  official  fidelity,  and  but  in  strict 
accordance  with  the  characteristic  gallantry  of  his  age,  his 
country,  and  his  profession,  to  presume  that  this  latter  por- 
tion of  his  duty  was  neither  the  most  irksome  nor  the  least 
vigilantly  discharged.  But  pleasant  or  otherwise  as  his 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  229 

attendance  on  the  fair  and  highborn  maiden  might  be,  it 
was  now  destined  to  be  at  least  suspended,  for  a  period 
which  circumstances  might  render  somewhat  indefinite. 

The  safety  and  permanence  of  the  English  interest  in 
Ireland,  never  fully  secure,  even  in  the  estimation  of  its 
most  haughty  and  redoubtable  supporters,  required,  at  this 
particular  period,  that  the  Governor  of  Castle- Cormack, 
who  was  the  guardian  of  the  aforesaid  interest  in  the 
North-west,  should  send  a  strong  detachment  to  the 
South  of  Donegal,  to  observe,  and  if  possible  counteract, 
certain  ominous  manifestations  in  that  locality  and  the 
adjacent  border  of  Connaught :  and  the  important  trust 
of  commanding  such  detachment  was  confided  to  young 
Talbot. 

It  was  some  months  after  the  departure  of  the  expedition 
referred  to,  that  the  old  veteran  of  Castle- Cormack,  proba- 
bly from  the  effects  of  having  supped  either  more  lightly  or 
heavily  than  usual,  did  not  fall  into  his  wonted  repose. 
The  time  was,  by  no  means,  the  most  peaceful,  nor  the 
locality  the  most  secure.  Cormac  Roe  O'Donnell,  or  the 
u  Red  Tanist,"  whom  we  have  already  had  occasion  to 
mention,  was  still  supposed  to  be  in  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains, and  he  had  honored  Castle- Cormack  with  a  rather 
unexpected  visit  not  long  before.  This  circumstance,  in 
itself,  had  little  remarkable,  as  the  Castle  had,  at  one  time, 
belonged  to  himself,  and  still  bore  his  name.  But  on  the 
occasion  referred  to,  he  had,  after  the  manner  of  the  cele- 
brated James  of  Douglass,  while  visiting  the  homestead 
under  similar  circumstances,  paid  a  less  delicate  regard  t<? 


280  CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 

the  laws  of  hospitality  than  might  have  been  expected  from 
the  "  son  of  an  Irish  King  ;"  he  having,  at  his  departure, 
carried  off,  under  his  mantle,  incomparably  the  most  pre- 
cious jewel  that  the  Castle  contained.  And  although  the 
treasure  had  been  almost  miraculously  recovered,  the 
circumstance  could  not  so  soon  have  escaped  the  owner's 
recollection.  And,  at  ail  events,  as  Dame  Nature  seldom 
fails  to  exact  satisfaction,  in  one  shape  or  other,  for  any 
infraction  of  her  established  laws,  the  hours  which  she  has 
set  apart  for  sleep,  are  seldom  passed,  at  least  alone,  in 
very  agreeable  waking.  And  that  the  old  soldier,  on  the 
night  in  question,  was  experiencing,  in  some  degree,  the 
effects  of  this  dispensation,  may  not  unreasonably  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  of  his  fancying  that  he  heard  a  foot- 
step passing  along  a  corridor  in  which  he  did  not  recollect 
having  posted  a  sentinel ;  and  from  the  impression  of  its 
truth  being  so  strong  as  to  induce  him  to  rise  and  follow. — 
Follow  what?  Why  the  Delusion,  to  be  sure ;  what  else ? 
But  stop,  most  incredulous  and  unsuperstitious  reader,  not 
quite  so  fast ;  for  notwithstanding  both  your  sagacity  and 
our  own  philosophy,  it  was  no  delusion  after  all !  For 
on  approaching  the  chamber  of  his  daughter,  in  which  a 
light  was  still  burning,  what  was  the  old  man's  horror  to 
behold  his  distracted  child  helplessly  struggling  in  the 
ruthless  embrace  of  the  "Red  Tanist"  himself!  The 
governor,  though  stricken  in  years,  was  still  brave  as  a  lion, 
and  he  had  also  taken  the  precaution  to  bring  his  aword  : 
but  if  it  can,  let  his  astonishment  be  conjectured,  when  on 
lushing  to  the  rescue,  the  lady  herself  was  the  first  tc 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT.  231 

arrest  his  progess,  by  throwing  herself  imploringly  between 
him  and  the  object  of  his  attack,  and  declaring  at  the  same 
time,  with  the  most  impassioned  earnestness,  that  the  fault 
was  wholly  and  exclusively  her  own ! 

The  incensed  and  astonished  father  would  have  probably 
concluded  that  excess  of  terror  must  have  driven  away  his 
daughter's  senses,  had  he  not,  on  fairly  confronting  the 
audacious  intruder,  at  once  discovered  that  he  was  not  the 
Red  Tanist  at  all,  but  his  own  young  favorite  Lieutenant 
Talbot,  who,  since  our  first  or  rather  second  acquaintance 
with  him,  had  so  far  gotten  over  his  dislike  of  every  thing 
English,  as  to  have  been  (until  interrupted  in  the  manner 
we  have  witnessed,)  enjoying  himself,  with  much  apparent 
relish,  in  the  fond  and  innocent  embrace  of  a  very  pretty 
English  maiden,  which  the  Governor's  daughter  undoubt- 
edly was. 

Now  although  the  haughty  and  unsuspicious  old  veteran 
was  perhaps  still  as  much  astonished  at  discovering  young 
Talbot  in  the  circumstances  described  as  if  the  latter  had 
been  in  reality  what  he  at  first  supposed  him,  namely,  the 
Red  Tanist  himself,  yet  there  was  not  in  reality  so  much 
mystery  in  the  matter.  The  young  soldier  had,  as  we  have 
already  intimated,  been  some  months  absent  on  a  distant 
and  dangerous  expedition,  from  which  he  had  just  then 
returned ;  and  no  doubt  believing  that  it  was  too  late  to 
intrude  upon  his  aged,  and  somewhat  stately  and  ceremoni- 
ous patron,  he  had,  like  a  faithful  and  considerate  vassal, 
hastened  to  pay  his  respects  and  report  progress  to  that 
patron's  natural  and  legal  representative.  And  the  young 


COHSTAN'INE     TALBOT. 


lady  had,  as  was  natural,  been  really  very  glad  to  see  him, 
and  no  doubt  still  gladder  to  hear  of  another  distinguished 
triumph  of  British  arms,  the  tidings  of  which  he  bore  :  and 
most  likely,  with  the  purpose  of  still  further  attaching  the 
brave  young  soldier  to  a  service  which  he  had,  at  first,  been 
so  unwilling  to  enter,  she  had,  at  the  time  of  her  father's 
entrance,  been  rewarding  his  valor  in  the  way  that  her  tact 
as  a  woman  taught  her  would  be  most  agreeable  to  the  gal- 
lant recipi 

But  the  testy  old  veteran,  probably  in  consequence  of 
that  pettishness  which  not  unfrequently  accompanies  the 
loss  or  want  of  sleep,  took  the  matter  in  high  dudgeon,  ami 
would  not  listen  to  the  foregoing  explanation,  that  is,  if 
ever  it  was  indeed  attempted;  but  told  his  young  friend, 
and  that,  too,  in  a  very  peremptory  manner,  to  take  a  final 
leave  of  Castle-Corraack  at  that  very  hour  ;  adding  that  ho 
only  spared  his  life  on  account  of  his  having  once  placed  it 
in  imminent  peril  to  rescue  her  of  whose  gratitude  he  had 
now  taken  such  mean  advantage,  from  the  power  of  the 
Red  Tanist ;  a  declaration  which  will  enable  the  reader 
to  understand  that  the  jewel  which  that  celebrated  indi- 
vidual is,  in  another  place,  represented  to  have  stolen,  was 
nothing  less  than  the  fair  lady  of  the  Castle  ;  and  the  said 
reader  will  here  also  please  to  understand,  if,  indeed,  his 
own  sagacity  has  not  already  anticipated  the  information, 
that  her  rescue  was  the  service,  before  only  hinted  at, 
which  had  elevated  Talbot  to  the  position  from  which  we 
have  just  seen  him  so  suddenly  and  so  unceremoniously 
hurled  The  lady  and  her  hapless  deliverer  had  just  time 


CONSTANTINE      TALBOT.  233 

for  one  last  look,  and  there  is  scarcely  room  to  doubt  that 
it  was  a  melancholy  one. 

Talbot  was  some  miles  from  the  Castle  before  the  stupe- 
faction produced  by  the  scene  in  which  he  had  so  deeply 
participated,  permitted  him  fully  to  comprehend  the  nature 
and  extent  of  the  evil  that  had  occurred  ;  but  a  very  brief 
period  of  reflection  sufficed  to  put  him  in  full  possession 
of  it  all.  An  hour  before  his  heart  had  been  glowing  with 
the  proud  consciousness  of  being  deservedly  famous,  and 

deeply  and  devotedly  beloved ;  and  now But  we  will 

not  dwell  on  the  contrast.  The  blight  of  his  prospects, 
sudden  and  total  as  it  had  been,  he  could  have  borne  ;  for 
he  had  already  studied  in  the  school  of  Adversity,  and  had 
besides  a  naturally  powerful  and  high-toned  mind.  But  the 
wound  so  suddenly  and  so  rudely  inflicted  on  his  Pride  was 
paining  him  to  absolute  madness.  His  late  successes,  both 
"  in  love  and  war,"  as  Monsoon  would  say,  aided  by  the 
consciousness  of  gentle  birth  and  commanding  talents,  had 
actually  made  him  forget  the  distance  which,  according  to 
conventional  admeasurement,  still  separated  him  from  the 
daughter  and  heiress  of  his  lordly  patron ;  but  the  occur- 
rences of  less  than  a  single  minute  had  amply  sufficed  to 
undeceive  him,  and  in  so  doing  to  inflict  that  perhaps  bit- 
terest, because  most  humiliating,  pang  to  which  the  sensi- 
tive and  wounded  heart  is  exposed — the  conviction  of 
having  foolishly  overrated  one's  self. 

His  first  resolve,  as  to  his  future  conduct,  was,  at  once, 
to  join  the  oft-mentioned  Cormac  Roe  O'Donnell,  and  to 
prompt  that  daring  leader  to  deeds  of  still  greater  reckless- 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 


ness  and  revenge :  his  second,  to  pass  over  to  the  Continent, 
and  seek^the  fate  which  its  incessant  wars  had  so  often  and 
so  opportunely  afforded  to  so  many  others  of  his  heart- 
broken and  expatriated  countrymen.  We  say  countrymen, 
for  although  serving  in  the  armies  of  England,  and  having 
been  born  in  a  foreign  land,  Talbot  never  ceased  to  regard 
himself  as  being  essentially  an  Irishman. 

In  the  meantime  he  had  reached  a  sort  of  caravansary, 
or  place  of  public  entertainment,  and  the  night,  or  rather 
morning,  being  still  dark  and  stormy,  he  resolved  to  seek, 
both  for  himself  and  the  jaded  steed,  which  was  henceforth 
to  be  the  sole  companion  of  his  pilgrimage,  a  few  hours  of 
rest  and  shelter  within  its  walls ;  and  having  obtained 
such  accommodation  as  the  place  afforded,  he  was  soor 
enjoying  the  luxury  of  at  least  a  temporary  forgetfulness. 
His  sleep,  however,  was  brief  and  troubled,  and  with  a 
start  of  agony  he  awoke.  But  short  and  unsettled  as  had 
been  his  slumber,  it  had  sufficed  for  one  of  the  most  sin- 
gular and  vividly  impressive  dreams  with  which  the  sleeper 
had  ever  been  visited.  Scarcely  had  his  eyelids  closed, 
when  he  thought  that  the  outlawed  chieftain,  so  frequently 
referred  to  in  these  pages,  stood  at  his  bedside.  His  face 
was  pale,  and  his  dress  disordered,  and  apparently  spotted 
with  blood :  but  his  bearing  lacked  nothing  of  its  usual 
pride,  nor  his  blue  eye  aught  of  its  wonted  brightness.  He 
bent  down  his  head  to  the  ear  of  his  prostrate  auditor,  and 
in  a  low  but  deep  and  impressive  tone,  uttered  the  words 
that  follow  : — "  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  although  thou  hast 
already  more  than  once  crossed  both  my  path  and  my  pur 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 


pose,  thou  art,  nevertheless,  still  my  kinsman ;  for  if  bear- 
ing the  hated  name  of  the  Saxon  Invader,  doth  not  the 
pure  and  kindly  blood  of  the  invincible  Baldhearg  still 
course  proudly  within  thy  veins  1  I  know  thy  present  dis- 
tresses, and  am  here  to  extricate  thee  :  hearken  to  my 
words.  The  miserable  traitor  who,  at  this  moment,  is  thy 
fellow-lodger  in  this  room,  has,  by  means  which  it  is  use- 
less to  mention,  possessed  himself  of  the  title-deed  of  all 
my  estates,  and  it  is  at  this  moment  concealed  in  a  bundle 
beneath  his  pillow.  Rise  immediately  and  possess  thyself 
of  it.  It  is  no  longer  of  any  importance  to  me,  as  I  am 
about  to  take  leave  of  this  unfortunate  country  forever. 
And  now,  farewell!"  With  these  words  he  wrung  the 
hand  of  the  sleeper  with  so  strong  and  passionate  a  grasp, 
that  when  the  latter,  in  an  agony  of  pain  and  terror,  awoke, 
he  discovered,  with  additional  horror,  that  the  blood  was 
oozing  from  beneath  the  finger-nails  of  his  right  hand.  But 
his  curiosity  had  partaken  of  too  powerful  a  stimulant  to 
permit  its  possessor  to  rest  satisfied  even  with  this  pretty 
unequivocal  evidence  of  the  extraordinary  character  of  his 
dream.  Neither  was  it,  in  this  instance,  destined  to  dis- 
appointment. The  title-deed,  also,  was  sought  for,  and 
found  exactly  in  the  situation  indicated.  But  although  it 
was  an  instrument  which,  at  present,  might  be  regarded  as 
of  a  singular,  if  not  of  a  shocking  character,  it  was  an  in- 
strument in  perfect  keeping  with  the  character  of  the 
period  and  country  in  which  it  figured,  and  was,  moreover, 
a  perfectly  valid  one.  It  was  the  bloody  and  newly-severed 
head  of  the  Red  Tanist  himself,  and  was  at  the  moment, 


CONSTANTINE     TALBOT. 


as  the  newly-ejected  spirit  of  its  late  owner  had  denomin- 
ated it,  a  legal  and  bona  fide  "  title-deed"  of  all  his 
estates;  for  a  vice-regal  proclamation  had  constituted  it 
such,  by  declaring,  that  whoever  should  bring  in  and  pre- 
sent at  Dublin  Castle  the  head  of  the  above-named  arch- 
rebel  and  traitor,  "either  alive  or  dead,"  would  be  re- 
warded with  a  right  in  perpetuity  to  all  his  confiscated 


Talbot,  on  discovering  so  shocking  a  spectacle,  naturally 
regarded  it  with  a  mixture  of  amazement  and  horror  ;  but 
he  foresaw  that  if  he  did  not  avail  himself  of  the  chance 
so  mysteriously  thrown  in  his  way,  the  spoils  of  his  victim 
would  go  to  the  cold-blooded  and  treacherous  murderer 
before  him,  a  dispensation  -which,  it  would  appear,  even  the 
disembodied  spirit  of  the  aforesaid  victim  was  anxious  to 

avert. 

•  •  •  *  * 

Exactly  four  weeks  after  his  expulsion,  Talbot  returned 
to  Castle-Cormack.  But  he  returned  to  it,  not  as  an 
humbled  or  repentant  suppliant,  but  as  its  legal,  and  so 
far,  it  would  seem,  as  the  will  of  the  original  proprietor  was 
concerned,  its  rightful  and  undoubted  heir.  The  father  of 
Cormac  Roe  had  been,  what  was  somewhat  rare  in  his 
family,  a  "  Queen's  O'Donnell,"  and  Castle-Cormack  had, 
therefore,  escaped  the  general  confiscation  that,  throughout 
almost  the  entire  of  Ulster,  followed  the  departure  of  "  the 
O'Donnell"  and  the  once  invincible  Tyrone.  But  its 
escape  was  but  momentary,  for  the  larger  patriotism  and 
smaller  prudence  of  his  immediate  successor  soon  furnished 


CONSTANTINETALBOT  237 

the  confiscates  with  the  pretext  of  which  he  had  so  long 
and  so  artfully  deprived  them,  and  Castle -Cormack  "  went 
the  way  of  all "  Irish  castles  of  the  period.  Since  that 
event  it  had  been  held  merely  as  a  royal  fortress,  and  now 
passed,  with  all  the  territory  appertaining  to  it,  into  the 
hands  of  the  new  and  singularly-constituted  proprietor. 
Nor  were  the  confiscated  castle  and  lands  of  the  unfortunate 
Red  Tanist  the  only  treasure  which,  at  that  auspicious 
moment,  came  into  the  possession  of  our  fortunate  hero ; 
for  either  impressed  with  the  folly  of  attempting  to  thwart 
the  inclinations  of  one  to  whom  the  "  spirits  of  air"  seemed 
willing  and  ready  to  minister,  or  else  convinced  that  the 
future  happiness  of  his  only  child  depended  on  his  com- 
pliance, the  late  governor  of  Castle-Cormack,  now  created 
Lord  Saxonstall,  so  far  overcame  his  former  indignation  as 
to  give  a  gracious  reply  to  the  formal  demand  of  Talbot  for 
the  hand  of  his  beautiful  and  high-born  daughter  ;  and  by 
what  must  be  regarded  as  at  least  a  singular  coincidence, 
this  last  and  crowning  consummation  of  his  ambition  and 
hopes  chanced,  without  any  previous  concert,  to  occur  on 
the  anniversary  of  his  birth — the,  to  him  and  his,  eventful 
twenty-ninth  of  June ! 

In  the  very  natural  excitement  produced  by  the  rapid 
succession  of  so  many  deeply-interesting  events,  the  circum- 
stance had  escaped  Talbot's  own  observation,  but  he  was 
reminded  of  it  by  a  very  old,  and,  now  that  she  was 
restored  to  her  former  position,  a  very  elegant  lady,  who 
shared  with  the  father  of  the  bride  and  the  mother  of  the 
bridegroom,  the  post  of  distinction  at  the  wedding  feast. 


MASONRY     !  3)     8  E  V  E  N  T  Y- S  I  X. 


TM    IJ1Z. 


BT     JOHN     D.     HOTT. 

TOWARDS  the  close  of  an  afternoon  in  the  middle  of 
April,  1776,  the  quiet  village  of  (Esopus  was  roused  from 
its  drowsiness  by  the  shrill  notes  of  the  fife,  accompanied 
by  the  measured  beat  of  the  drum.  The  old  men  hastened 
to  the  doors,  the  boys  to  the  street,  while  the  matrons,  with 
their  timid  daughters,  sought  to  solve  the  mystery  of  the 
uproar  by  what  intelligence  could  be  gained  in  peering 
through  the  curtained  windows. 

The  village  tavern  was  emptied  of  its  visitors,  who 
thronged  its  piazza  to  review  a  company  of  Liberty  Boys, 
on  their  way  to  the  place  of  general  rendezvous.  They 
were  not  exactly  uniform  in  their  dress  or  equipments,  yet 
the  most  casual  observer  could  not  fail  to  discover  a  one- 
ness of  purpose  in  the  lineaments  of  every  face. 

"  Well,  doctor,  what  do  you  think  of  that  ?  "  said  the 
host  of  the  tavern  (as  the  last  straggler  of  the  company 
filed  past  the  door),  addressing  himself  to  one  whose  black 
dress,  silver  shoe  and  knee-buckles,  with  his  ruffled  wrist- 
bands, spoke  him  at  once  but  a  visitor  of  the  place  ;  while 
the  small  sword,  more  for  ornament  than  use,  that  dangled 
at  his  side,  gave  him  a  semi-military  appearance. 


MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY-SIX.  239 

"  Think  !  "  said  he,  "  think  !  why  I  would  rather  physic 
them  for  a  month  than  see  them  hung  for  an  hour." 

"  Generous — very  !  "  replied  the  interrogator  ;  "  but 
come,  doctor,  why  not  join  us  then  ?  " 

A  cloud  of  seriousness  played  over  the  doctor's  features, 
like  the  shadow  of  the  moth  flitting  around  a  candle,  as  he 
replied, 

"  No,  no — that  cannot  be  now ;  whatever  might  have 
been,  cannot  be  now.  What  might  have  been  rebellion, 
would  now  be  treason ;  and  what  might  have  been  a  resig- 
nation, would  now  be  desertion;"  and  then  resuming  his 
usual  jocose  manner,  he  continued,  "  and,  beside,  what  will 
become  of  your  ragged  regiment  when  they  get  into  Sir 
Henry's  hands  1  They  will  all  die  of  the  rot,  if  they  have 
no  doctor ;  and  then,  you  know,  what  can  a  man  be  without 
a  clean  shirt  and  a  guinea?  for  your  Congress  are  not 
worth  enough  to  buy  a  dose  of  jalap.  So  I  must  be  off  in 
the  morning." 

"  Not  so  soon,  sir,"  said  one  of  several  new  comers 
among  the  group  ;  "  your  company  is  too  good  to  be  lost  so 
soon." 

The  doctor  turned  himself  to  the  speaker,  who  was 
dressed  in  the  full  uniform  of  a  Continental  captain,  and 
giving  him  a  familiar  nod,  replied, 

"  So,  so,  captain  !  got  the  first  lesson  by  heart  already — 
know  where  there  is  good  quarters.  Well,  I  think  you  had 
better  stay  here  and  enjoy  it." 

"  Indeed,  so !  we  calculate  to  stay  here  for  a  while,  till 
we  hear  from  Boston  or  New  York,  and  we  calculate  to 


S40  MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY-SIX. 

have  the  doctor's  company,  though  we  don't  care  about  his 
physic.  As  to  the  guinea  a-day,  King  George  can  furnish 
that,  as  we  don't  mean  to  stop  either  the  doctor's  grog  or 
pay." 

"  Can't  stay,  captain ;  can't  stay,"  replied  the  doctor ; 
"  must  be  off  in  the  morning :  but,  for  old  acquaintance 
sake,  come  and  quarter  here  to-night,  and  we'll  have  a 
rousing  bowl  of  punch,  without  politics— eh  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Betts,"  said  the  captain,  in  a  solemn  tone,  that 
made  the  physician  look  a  little  more  serious  than  was  his 
wont,  "  a  truce  to  jokes  !  I  conceive  it  my  duty,  according 
to  general  instructions,  to  say  to  you  that  you  are  my 
prisoner." 

A  thunder-storm  gathered  over  the  doctor's  features,  and 
his  hand  mechanically  sought  the  hilt  of  .his  sword ;  but 
the  captain  continued,  "It  must  be  either  your  parole  or 
the  jail." 

"  Prisoner !  jail ! "  echoed  the  doctor,  as  a  half-dozen 
bayonets  gathered  around  him,  while  his  hand  still  rested 
on  his  weaponless  weapon,  as  the  small  sword  at  his  side 
might  be  justly  styled ;  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  captain, 
who  met  their  angry  flash  with  a  half  smile,  he  continued, 
"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  Is  it  not  enough  for  you,  and 
the  like  of  yon,  to  be  turning  the  country  upside  down  with 
your  rebellious  clamor ;  but  must  you  bring  your  ragged 
regiment  here  to  stop  the  king's  officer  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,  doctor,"  replied  the  captain,  "  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  bandy  words  about  it  at  this  time  of  day, 
you  know.  Rebels  or  no  rebels,  you  know  what  a  soldier's 


MASONRY      IN     SEVENTY-SIX.  241 

word  is,  and  I  am  willing  to  risk  it,  coming  from  you.  So 
you  may  take  your  choice ;  either  to  mess  here  with  us,  like 
a  gentleman,  or  mess  by  yourself  yonder  ;"  and  he  pointed 
to  the  Court-house  a  little  distance  off.  "  If  you  choose  the 
former,  we'll  have  the  punch." 

The  light  and  shade  that  played  over  the  doctor's  face 
showed  his  irresolution,  as  he  muttered,  "  Parole  or  jail !  " 
then,  raising  his  hand,  and  pushing  aside  a  bayonet  that 
was  ambitiously  protruded  beyond  its  fellows,  he  remarked, 
"  That's  rather  a  rusty  joke." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  owner,  "  but  it  is  somewhat  pointed." 

This  retort  caused  a  smile  of  good-humor,  that  was  soon 
followed  by  three  hearty  cheers,  as  the  doctor  extended  his 
hand  to  the  captain,  saying,  "  Well,  captain,  then  you  have 
my  word !  I  am  yours  till  exchanged,  or  honorably  dis- 
charged, or  recaptured,  which  I  should  not  like  to  be ;  for 
they  might  judge  me  by  the  company  I  am  in.  So,  let's 
have  the  punch :  because  we  have  broke  jail,  it  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  stay  out  doors  all  the  time." 

So  saying,  the  party  withdrew,  and  soon  were  busy  with 
their  wit  and  cups  ;  which,  according  to  the  doctor's  theory, 
was  much  better  for  the  head  than  plumbago  pills. 


The  city  of  New  York,  at  the  time  we  write  of,  was  not 
what  it  is  at  the  time  we  write.  Then  its  longest  shadow 
to  the  east  could  not  extend  to  what  is  now  known  as 
Chatham-square.  Pearl-street  was  the  eastern  boundary. 


'242  MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY-SIX. 

and  Chatham-street,  then  the  Bowery  Road,  was  a  defile 
through  hills  and  meadows.  On  the  northern  side  was 
a  hill,  commencing  at  or  near  the  Fields,  now  the  Park, 
and  gaining  its  highest  altitude  a  little  east  of  Duano- 
street;  thence  sloping  off  to  the  Collect,  its  summit 
was  graced  by  a  seat  of  learning,  where  .#,  by  itself 
a,  was  "licked"  into  the  young  idea  with  a  yard  or 
two  of  birch,  more  plentiful  in  those  days  than  school- 
books.  On  the  opposite  side  were  a  few  scattered  country 
houses,  with  gardens  stretching  away  up  the  hill-side, 
towards  Rose-street.  On  the  corner  of  the  road,  towards 
Duane-street,  then  a  mere  narrow  way  for  convenience, 
was  a  suburban  house,  with  brick  front,  a  little  loftier  in 
appearance  than  its  neighbors,  although  its  occupants  were 
as  well  known  to  the  poor  as  the  rich  ;  but  few,  even  of  the 
most  inveterate  grumblers,  would  venture  on  a  remark 
against  the  well-known  generosity  and  kindness  of  Dr. 
Betts  or  his  family. 

A  few  days  after  the  transactions  at  CEsopus,  the  Doc- 
tor's wife  was  plying  her  needle  in  a  way  known  to  but  few, 
if  any,  of  the  ladies  of  the  present  day,  when  idleness  is 
considered  a  mark  of  gentility,  and  a  knowledge  of  the 
modus  operandi  of  making  a  shirt  is  decidedly  vulgar. 
Beside  her  was  sitting  a  little  girl  of  some  seven  years, 
taking  from  her  mother  the  first  lessons  for  the  ball 
of  yarn,  which  was  soon  to  come  off  in  the  shape  of  a 
stocking. 

"  Come,  Sarah,  don't  be  looking  toward  the  window  so 
much  or  I  shall  think  you  want  to  go  to  school,  instead  of 


MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY-SIX.  243 

learning  to  knit,"  said  the  mother,  addressing  herself  to 
her  daughter. 

"  No,  mother,  no !  I  would  rather  knit  all  day  than  go 
to  Mr.  Shankland." 

"  And  why  do  you  not  like  Mr.  Shankland'?" 

The  child  looked  for  a  moment  into  her  mother's  face, 
and  replied,  "  He  is  such  a  tory  /" 

A  smile  from  her  mother  was  the  only  answer ;  for  a 
strain  of  martial  music  put  an  end  to  the  conversation,  and 
brought  Sarah  to  her  feet  and  the  window,  with  the  excla- 
mation, "  Hannah  Jones  told  me  they  were  coming  to-day  !" 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  sound,  and  a  few  minutes 
brought  the  head  of  the  column  to  Sarah's  view,  when  clap- 
ping her  tiny  hands,  she  exclaimed,  "  Here  they  come ! 
here  they  come !  mother !  mother !  do  come  to  the  win- 
dow ! — none  of  them  have  got  red  coats  on,  mother — do 
come  and  see — aint  this  General  Washington,  mother? 
Hannah  said  he  was  coming  to-day." 

"  Sarah !  Sarah !"  replied  her  mother,  "do  cease  your 
noise  !  You  will  waken  your  brother,  and  you  know  your 
father  is  not  there." 

And  the  good  wife  applied  her  foot  to  the  cradle  by  her 
side,  and  commenced  humming  a  lullaby  to  the  waking 
child,  while  Sarah  amused  herself  by  muttering,  "  Yes, 
they  are  the  whigs — they  are  the  whigs  !" 

The  last  notes  of  the  bugle  had  died  away,  the  last 
straggler  had  disappeared,  and  Sarah  had  resumed  her  yarn, 
while  the  sights  she  had  seen  furnished  an  endless  theme 
for  her  childish  prattle,  when  a  rap  at  the  hall  door  an- 


344  MASONRY     IN    SEVENTY-SIX. 

nounced  a  stranger ;  who,  preceded  by  the  colored  house- 
maid, entered  the  room  with  no  other  ccremo.jy  than  the 
military  one  of  touching  his  chapeau  to  the  mistress,  which 
he  did  as  Martha  finished  the  sentence  of  "  A  gentleman 
wishes  to  see  you,  ma'am."  He  was  hooted  and  spurred, 
with  the  dusty  appearance  of  a  long  ride.  Addressing  him- 
self to  the  mistress,  who  stood  before  him,  he  coolly  re- 
marked, "The  location  and  appearance  of  your  house, 
madam,  makes  it  necessary  and  convenient  for  my  quarters 
while  the  army  shall  remain  in  the  city.  It  is  the  fortune 
of  war,  and  necessity  knows  no  law.  I  will  retire  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  that  you  may  make  what  arrangements  you 
see  fit." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  short  speech  his  eye  was  met 
more  than  once  by  a  look  as  proud  and  unflinching  as  ever 
bid  defiance  to  oppression.  Touching  his  hat  again,  with  a 
slight  inclination  of  the  head,  which  was  coldly  returned,  he 
left,  and  as  the  door  closed  on  his  retreating  steps,  the  tears 
rushed  to  her  eyes,  as  Mrs.  Betts  exclaimed,  "  Where  is 
your  father  f  "  One  arm  of  Sarah  was  round  her  mother's 
neck,  while  the  other  hand  was  busy  with  the  corner  of  her 
apron,  wiping  the  tears  that  coursed  each  other  down  the 
parent's  cheek,  at  the  same  time  running  over  a  catalogue 
of  places  where  they  might  go  in  this  emergency.  Another 
summons  at  the  door  soon  removed  each  wrinkle  of  com- 
plaint, and  Martha  again  entered,  with  "  a  letter  for  you, 
ma'am."  It  was  eagerly  siezed  and  soon  read.  A  slight  pal- 
lor was  observable,  as  the  wife  exclaimed,  "  I  wonder  where 
this  war  will  end? — but  there  is  no  use  of  moping  away  our 


MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY-SIX.  245 

time.  Martha,"  she  continued,  addressing  herself  to  the 
servant,  "  the  Doctor  is  a  prisoner  of  war  ;  we  must  do  the 
best  we  can ;  we  will  pack  up  first,  and  look  for  a  shelter 
afterwards." 

But  little  time  elapsed  ere  the  neatly-furnished  parlor 
became  strewed  with  papers,  crockery,  and  clothing ;  and 
what  an  hour  before  seemed  the  abode  of  peace  and  quiet- 
ness, now  resembled  the  rendezvous  of  disorder.  While 
thus  engaged,  the  author  of  all  this  confusion  again  entered, 
and  was  met  by  the  exclamation,  "  The  time  is  not  yet  up, 
sir !"  spoken  in  a  manner  that  none  but  a  woman  who  feels 
her  rights  invaded  can  speak. 

"  It  is  not,"  was  the  cool  reply ;  then,  glancing  around 
the  cheerless  apartment,  the  intruder  took  up  a  paper  from 
the  floor,  that  had  attracted  his  attention,  and  turning  to 
the  woman,  he  asked,  "  Is  that  your  husband's  7" 

A  new  idea  flashed  across  her  mind,  and  might  have  been 
read  in  her  eye,  as  she  promptly  answered,  "  It  is." 

It  was  a  Masonic  notice,  signed  by  her  husband. 

"Where  is  he  now?"  asked  the  intruder.  The  open 
letter  that  lay  upon  the  table  was  placed  in  his  hands ;  and 
he  read  as  follows  : — 


DEAR  MOLLY  :— The  boys  are  up  and  doing,  and  have  caught  the 
doctor  to  begin  with.  In  other  words,  I  am  a  prisoner  on  parole. 
Give  yourself  no  uneasiness  about  me,  as  I  am  well  cared  for.  The 
only  draw-back  is  being  away  from  you  and  the  children.  Ascertain 
who  and  where  the  nearest  general  officer  is,  and  I  will  report  to  him, 
BO  as  to  be  exchanged  as  soon  as  possible.  Should  any  of  the  Lodge 
ask  for  me,  you  can  tell  them  how  I  am  situated.  You  are  so  far  out 


~H  MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY-SIX. 

of  town  as  to  escape  from  the  uproar  of  Washington's  army  when  he 
cornea  to  New  York ;  but  if  they  are  all  like  the  specimen  I  am  with, 
they  are  a  jolly  fine  set. 

In  haste,  yours  truly,  J.  B. 

(Esopus,  16th  April,  1776. 

Placing  the  letter  on  the  table,  the  soldier  made  a  memo- 
randum on  the  notice  with  his  pencil,  and  turning  to  Mrs.  B. 
he  said,  "  War  at  the  best  is  a  great  misfortune,  madam  ; 
and  though  some  may  win,  it  is  a  curse  to  others.  Were 
it  not  that  some  high  power  occasionally  turned  its  shafts, 
its  horrors  could  scarce  be  borne.  I  am  sorry  for  the 
trouble  I  have  given,  occasioned  in  some  measure  by  the 
meddlesomeness  of  others.  You  may  make  yourself  easy 
where  you  are,  and  I  will  try  and  make  amends  for  the 
evils  that  may  have  been  committed." 

Thus  saying,  he  left  the  room,  to  which  the  energies  of 
a  light  heart  soon  gave  its  wonted  appearance,  while  Sarah 
insisted  upon  it  that  the  whigs  were  not  such  bad  men, 
after  all. 

A  week  had  elapsed.  The  arrival  and  departure  of 
troops,  the  active  preparations  for  defending  the  city,  and 
the  nightly  meetings  of  the  citizens,  who  were  codper- 
ating  with  the  military  authorities,  seemed  to  absorb  and 
swallow  up  every  other  interest.  Even  "  the  church-going 
bell"  could  scarce  be  heard  amid  the  din  of  "the  drum 
and  trumpet's  warlike  sound."  It  was  afternoon.  A  single 
horseman,  dusty  and  travel-worn,  came  dashing  through 
the  Bowery  Road.  The  signs  of  military  occupation  that 
met  his  practiced  eye  put  new  energy  to  his  heel,  as  he 


MASONRY     IN     SEVENTY     SIX.  247 

plied  the  spur  to  his  evidently  jaded  steed,  who,  taking  the 
hint,  acceded  to  his  rider's  wishes,  and  gave  evidence  of  his 
mettle  by  the  speed  with  which  he  neared  the  city,  the  sub- 
urbs of  which  were  soon  gained.  A  sudden  check  brought 
him  to  a  full  stop,  and  the  doctor  leaped  from  his  back,  and 
was  met  at  the  threshold  by  wife,  children,  and  servant, 
each  eye  brilliant  with  tears  of  joy.  His  story  was  soon 
told.  An  order  had  been  received  by  the  captain  in  whose 
custody  he  had  remained,  to  allow  him  forthwith  to  return 
to  the  city  on  his  parole,  and  request  him  to  report  on  his 
arrival  to  Col. .  But  few  preliminaries  were  neces- 
sary on  the  receipt  and  announcement  of  this  order.  The 
saddle-bags  were  soon  filled,  the  parting  bumper  soon 
drank,  and  with  the  aid  of  a  good  horse,  urged  by  a  hus- 
band's and  father's  feelings,  the  loved  ones  were  speedily 
gained ; — the  result  of  a  notice,  carelessly  thrown  on  the 
floor,  and  picked  up  by  the  Colonel,  who  was  a  Mason  true 
to  his  pledge.  And  this  was  but  one  of  many  instances 
where  the  shield  of  Brotherhood  had  prcved  too  strong  for 
the  shafts  of  envy  and  the  missives  of  war. 


THE   MASTER' s   SONG 


THB  KASIBB'S  ••!•. 


BT     DR       4  If  DER80N  . 

We  nng  of  Masons'  ancient  fame ! 

Lo,  eighty  thousand  crafUmen  rise 
Under  the  masters  of  great  name ; 

More  than  three  thousand  just  and  wise. 
Employ'd  by  SOLOMON,  the  Sire, 

And  general  Master  Mason  too, 
As  Hi*  AM  was  in  stately  Tyre, 

Like  Salem  built  by  Masons  true. 

The  royal  art  was  then  dirine, 

The  craftsmen  oounseU'd  from  aboye, 
The  temple  was  the  grand  design 

The  wond'ring  world  did  all  approve. 
Ingenious  men  from  every  place 

Came  to  surrey  the  glorious  pile ; 
And,  when  return'd,  began  to  trace 

And  imitate  its  lofty  style. 

At  length  the  Grecians  came  to  know 

Geometry,  and  learn'd  the  art 
Pythagoras  was  rais'd  to  show. 

And  glorious  Euclid  to  impart : 
Great  Archimedes  too  appear'd, 

And  Carthagenian  masters  bright ; 
Till  Roman  citizens  uprear'd 

The  art,  with  wisdom  and  delight. 


THE   MASTER'S    SONG 


But  when  proud  Asia  they  had  quell'd, 

And  Greece  and  Egypt  overcome, 
In  architecture  they  excell'd, 

And  brought  the  learning  all  to  Rome  ; 
Where  wise  Vitruvius,  warden  prime 

Of  architects,  the  art  improved 
In  great  Augustus'  peaceful  time, 

When  arts  and  artists  were  belov*d. 

They  brought  the  knowledge  from  the  east, 

And  as  they  made  the  nations  yield, 
They  spread  it  through  the  north  and  wettt 

And  taught  the  world  the  art  to  build. 
Witness  their  citadels  and  tow'rs, 

To  fortify  their  legions  fine, 
Their  temples,  prflaces,  and  bow'rs, 

That  spoke  the  Masons'  grand  design 

Thus  mighty  eastern  Kings,  and  some 

Of  Abraham's  race,  and  Monarchs  good 
Of  Egypt,  Syria,  Greece,  and  Rome, 

True  architecture  understood. 
No  wonder  then  if  Masons  join 

To  celebrate  those  Mason-kings, 
With  solemn  note  and  flowing  wine, 

Whilst  every  brother  jointly  sings  i 

Chorus. 
Who  can  unfold  the  royal  art, 

Or  show  its  secrets  in  a  song  ? 
They're  safely  kept  in  Masons'  heart, 

And  to  the  ancient  lodge  belong ! 


2f-0  THE     FOUR     CARDINAL     VIRTUES. 


:a 


TEMPERANCE. 

TEMPERANCE  implies  a  restraint  of  the  passions,  which 
reduces  the  animal  body  to  the  power  of  government  and 
submission  to  its  requirements,  and  extricates  the  mind 
from  the  manacles  of  vice.  Of  course  this  should  be  prac- 
ticed by  every  Mason ;  as  it  teaches  him  to  avoid  excess, 
licentious  and  vicious  habits — the  practice  of  which  might 
lead  him  in  an  unguarded  moment  to  divulge  those  secrets 
he  has  promised  never  to  reveal — the  disclosure  of  which 
would  subject  him  to  the  contempt  of  every  good  Mason. 

FORTITUDE 

Signifies  such  a  steady  purpose  of  mind  as  enables  us  to 
meet  pain,  or  danger,  when  deemed  prudentially  requisite. 
It  is  equi-distant  from  rashness  and  cowardice ;  and  should 
be  ever  impressed  upon  the  mind  of  the  Mason,  as  a 
security  against  any  attack,  in  order  to  effect  a  disclosure  of 
those  valuable  secrets  solemnly  intrusted  with  him  and 
emblematically  represented  upon  his  first  admission  into  the 
Lodge.  *  *  *  * 

PRUDENCE 

Is  the  regulator  of  our  actions  and  lives,  agreeably  to  the 
dictates  of  reason,  whereby  we  judge  according  to  wisdom, 


THE     FOUR    CARDINAL     VIRTUES.  261 

and  determine  upon  all  things  relating  to  present  and 
future  happiness.  It  should  form  a  prominent  feature  in 
the  character  of  every  Mason — for  the  regulation  of  his 
conduct  in  the  Lodge  as  well  as  ahroad  in  the  world.  His 
attention  should  be  given  to  this  virtue  in  every  company — 
strange,  mixed,  or  otherwise — so  that  no  secret  of  Masonry 
may  be  illegally  obtained.  *  *  *  * 

JUSTICE 

Is  the  rendering  to  every  man  his  just  due  without  dis- 
tinction. It  is  alike  consistent  with  divine  and  human 
laws,  and  forms  the  grand  support  of  all  society  ; — and  as 
it,  to  a  very  great  degree,  constitutes  the  good  man,  it 
ought  invariably  to  be  a  rule  with  every  Mason  never  to 
deviate  from  its  principles. 


MASONIC  MAXIM. — That  innocence  should  be  the  pro- 
fessed principle  of  a  Mason  occasions  no  astonishment, 
when  we  consider  that  the  discovery  of  the  Deity  whom  we 
serve  leads  us  to  the  knowledge  of  those  maxims  wherewith 
he  may  be  well  pleased  ;  the  very  idea  of  a  God  is  succeeded 
with  the  belief  that  he  can  approve  of  nothing  that  is  evil ; 
and  when  first  our  predecessors  professed  themselves 
servants  of  the  Great  Architect  of  the  world,  as  an  indis- 
pensable duty  they  professed  innocency,  and  put  on  white 
raiment,  as  a  type  and  characteristic  of  their  conviction, 
and  of  their  being  devoted  to  his  will. 


THE     FATAL     PREDICTIO 


2313  1AXAK  IlSKESSZDl. 

BY     J.      C.      HAOEN. 

THK  lorely  Isabel  had  charms 

The  loftiest  queen  might  priie ; 
And  her  father  was  famed  through  many  lands, 

As  a  seer  old  and  wise. 

Young  Qarbaldi  was  a  prince  of  power, 

His  lands  were  rich  and  wide ; 
And  he  had  sworn  to  fair  Isabel 

That  she  should  be  his  bride. 

But  years  roll'd  by,  and  his  pride  grew  strong, 

And  his  youthful  lore  grew  cold ; 
And  he  left  the  maid  of  his  early  choice 

For  one  who  had  lands  and  gold. 

Fair  Isabel,  so  gay  before, 
Ne'er  smiled  again  from  that  day ; 

And  though  the  blight  did  not  kill  her  outright, 
It  stole  her  reason  away. 

Woe,  woe,  proud  prince,"  said  the  seer  old, 
•'  On  thy  bridal  morn  to  thee, 
For  torn  from  thy  side  thy  queenly  bride 
By  a  stouter  than  thou  shall  be." 

And  the  proud  prince  laugh'd  a  laugh  of  scorn, 

At  the  threat  of  the  seer  old, 
For  strong  were  his  towers,  and  many  his  slaves, 

And  his  own  heart  stout  and  bold. 


THE     FATAL     PREDICTION.  268 

And  "  Welcome,  welcome,  the  warrior  bold.'* 

Said  he,  "to  my  queenly  bride; 
Whoever  he  be  on  my  bridal  morn 

Shall  tear  her  away  from  my  side." 

0,  brightly,  brightly  is  shining  the  snn, 

On  turret,  and  dome,  and  tower; 
Away  to  the  chapel,  ye  glitt'ring  throng, 

For  this  is  the  bridal  hour. 

Prince  Garbaldi  has  marshall'd  his  bands, 

And  his  banners  are  streaming  gay  ; 
And  never  before  had  the  oldest  eyes 

Beheld  such  a  goodly  array. 

And  he  cast  a  sneer  on  the  seer  old, 
As  he  pass'd  him  by  in  his  pride  ; 
"  Where  now,"  he  said,  "  is  the  warrior  bold, 
Who  shall  carry  away  my  bride  ?" 

The  queenly  bride,  with  her  glitt'ring  train. 

The  prince,  with  his  haughty  brow, 
And  the  shaven  priest,  in  his  solemn  garb, 

Are  at  the  altar  now. 

But,  hark  to  the  crash  !  and  to  the  flash 

From  the  burning  mountain  nigh  ! 
Pillar  and  wall  are  rock'd  to  their  fall ! 

0  fly  while  ye  yet  may  fly  ! 

Full  many  a  tall  and  goodly  knight, 

And  many  a  lady  fair, 
Who  vainly  essay'd  to  escape  in  flight, 

In  death  lay  buried  there. 

But  the  prince  has  seized  his  lady  fair, 

And  has  pass'd  the  outer  gate, 
And  boastingly  says,  "  I  will  save  her  yet, 

Though  it  be  from  the  jaws  of  fate !" 


MASONIC      SONG. 


Awaj,  away,  from  the  falling  towers 

And  opening  earth  he  fled  ; 
But  when-  he  look'd  on  the  face  of  his  bride, 

He  look'd  OB  the  face  of  the  dead  ! 

Tet  not  from  the  earthquake's  shook  she  sank, 

Nor  fire,  nor  falling  stone  ; 
Bat  'mid  the  terror  of  that  dread  hour 

Her  fragile  life  had  flown. 


the  proud  prince  thought  of  the  seer  fid 
He  had  vainly  spurn'd  in  his  pride— 
For  Death,  grim  Death,  was  the  warrior  bold 
Who  had  stolen  away  his  bride. 


XASIVIC   89»«. 

WHILST  thy  genius,  0  Masonry,  spreads  all  around, 
The  rays  of  the  halo  with  which  thon  art  crown'd, 
Shall  the  ttar  in  thy  sky,  which  now  rising  appears, 
Not  partake  of  that  light  that  grows  brighter  with  years  ? 
Shall  its  portion  of  fire  be  left  to  expire, 
And  leave  no  bright  trace  that  shall  bid  us  admire  ? 
0  no !  its  mild  beams  shall  be  seen  from  afar, 
And  the  child  of  distress  bleas  the  new  Ruing  Star. 

Like  the  beams  of  that  Star,  which  of  old  mark'd  the  way, 
And  led  where  of  peace  the  sweet  Messenger  lay, 
May  its  fight,  still  to  virtue  and  Masonry  true, 
Mark  the  path  that  with  strength  Wisdom  bids  us  pursue ; 
As  its  beams,  unconfined,  illumine  the  mind 
With  pleasure  that  leaves  no  sad  feeling  behind, 
The  jewel  of  beauty  glows  bright,  and  its  ray 
Makes  Griefs  gloomy  night  fly  from  Joy's  radiant  day 


MASONIC     HYMN.  256 


3ITSSH. 


JEHOVAH  spake  !  wide  Chaos  heard, 
And  bowing  to  his  sovereign  word, 

Confusion  —  darkness  fled  ; 
While  from  the  deep,  the  void  profound, 
Celestial  splendors  shone  around, 

And  new-born  beauties  spread. 

Up  rose  the  Sun  in  cloudless  light, 
And  at  meridian  strength  and  height 

Beamed  from  his  radiant  throne; 
The  Moon  was  robed  in  silver  rays, 
And  mild  reflecting  solar  blaze  ; 

Bright-gemm'd  the  starry  zone  : 

The  morning  Star,  less  lucid  still, 
Was  orient  seen  above  the  hill, 

And  led  the  van  of  day  ; 
While  twice  ten  thousand  worlds  of  light 
Wide  round  the  gloom  of  ancient  night 

Shed  Wisdom's  mildest  ray. 

**  Let  these  be  signs  !"  JEHOVAH  said  ; 
From  pole  to  pole  the  signs  were  spread, 

And  MORTALS  bade  them  hail  ! 
For  Wisdom,  Love,  and  Power  snail  be 
Thy  signs,  0  GOD,  and  lead  to  Thee, 

Beyond  DEATH'S  cbudy  vale. 


PATRIOT-MASONS. 


IBS   VAXliat-XASIVS    Off    All 


IT      BROTHER     CALEB      ATWATER. 

WHO  was  it,  that,  quitting  the  peaceful  shades  of  Ver- 
non's  hill — all  the  pleasures  which  wealth  could  purchase, 
friendship  offer,  or  domestic  felicity  afford — placed  himself 
at  the  head  of  our  armies,  at  the  unanimous  call  of  his 
countrymen,  and  contended  many  a  year  for  our  liberties 
and  independence,  until  victory  crowned  his  efforts  with 

SIKV.-S  ? 

It  was  WASHINGTON,  who  was  a  Freemason,  and 
delighted  to  meet  his  brethren  upon  the  level,  and  to  part 
with  them  upon  the  square.  So  may  we  always  meet  and 
par/,  my  brethren. 

Who  was  it,  that,  quitting  the  pursuits  of  private  life, 
a  useful,  honorable,  and  lucrative  profession,  assumed  the 
sword  and  fell  in  defence  of  our  liberties  on  Bunker's  hill  ? 
It  was  WARREN,  who  was  our  brother,  and  at  the  head  of 
our  order  in  his  native  State,  when  he  fell. 

Who  was  it  that,  by  his  discoveries  in  electricity,  gained 
a  high  place  as  a  philosopher  in  fame's  temple?  Who, 
by  his  indefatigable  exertions,  raised  himself  from  the 
humblest  walks  of  life  to  the  highest  eminence  as  a  states- 


PATRIOT-MASONS.  257 

man?  Who,  from  poverty,  became  rich,  by  his  industry, 
economy,  and  prudence?  Whose  writings  are  read  in 
every  part  of  the  civilized  world  ?  Who  was  it,  in  fine, 
that  "  snatched  the  lightnings  from  heaven,  and  the  sceptre 
from  tyrants  ?"  It  was  FRANKLIN,  who  was  at  the  head 
of  Freemasonry  in  Pennsylvania. 

Washington,  Warren,  and  Franklin  were  Freemasons, 
whose  virtuous  labors  in  public  and  private  life,  in  the  field, 
and  in  the  cabinet,  deserve  our  esteem,  our  admiration,  and 
our  gratitude.  Compared  with  these  brethren,  how  sink 
the  monarchs  of  Europe  ?  Though  they  despised  the  gew- 
gaws of  princes,  they  gloried  ki  wearing  pur  jewels.  The 
simplicity  and  sublimity  of  such  characters  are  only  esti- 
mated by  the  craft,  and  will  be  honored  and  revered  by 
mankind,  as  long  as  patriotism,  courage,  constancy,  fidelity, 
perseverance,  and  all  the  amiable  and  heroic  virtues  find 
eulogists  and  admirers. 

We  need  not  the  illustrious  examples  of  other  ages  and 
distant  countries  to  excite  us  to  the  performance  of  every 
duty,  to  the  practice  of  every  virtue,  while  Washington, 
Warren,  and  Franklin  are  remembered.  FREEMASONRY, 
they  were  thine!  COLUMBIA,  they  were  thy  shield,  thy 
boast,  and  thy  glory  ! 

Freemasonry !  thy  sages,  thy  philosophers,  tny  warriors, 
and  thy  statesmen  of  our  country,  who  have  fought,  and 
toiled,  and  bled,  and  died  in  our  defence,  are  remembered 
with  gratitude  by  thy  sons  !  History  has  raised  a  monu- 
ment to  their  fame  more  durable  than  marble,  which  shall 
stand  firm,  and  its  inscription  continue  undefaced,  while 


258  PATRIOT-MASONS. 

the  world  shall  stand.  Patriots  of  every  country,  read  the 
inscription  upon  this  pillar,  dedicated  to  patriotism  and  to 
virtue.  The  patriots  of  the  revolution,  guided  by  the 
eternal  principles  of  justice,  truth,  and  patriotism,  sought 
to  exalt  their  country,  and  they  succeeded  in  the  attempt. 
How  sickening  to  the  eye  of  every  genuine  patriot  are  the 
courtiers  of  this  silken  age,  compared  with  those  who,  in 
an  iron  age,  endured  every  privation,  passed  through  all 
manner  of  perils,  toiled,  and  bled,  and  died,  for  their  coun- 
try !  How  sink  the  potent  patriots  of  these  days,  when 
compared  with  those  who,  during  our  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence, might  have  been  tracked  by  the  blood  which  at 
every  step  distilled  in  crimson  currents  from  their  weary 
feet!  Their  clothes,  consisting  of  "  shreds  and  patches" 
of  every  color,  barefoot  and  hungry,  they  redeemed  us  from 
slavery.  With  soldiers  thus  accoutred,  our  brethren, 
Washington,  Montgomery,  Warren,  Clinton,  Gates,  Lee, 
Scammel,  La  Fayette,  and  others,  conquered  the  best- 
appointed  armies  Britain  ever  sent  into  the  field.  Patriots 
of  every  age  and  country  shall  repeat  the  story  to  their 
children,  while  every  Freemason  shall  rejoice  that  the  prin- 
cipal actors  in  those  days  of  peril  were  our  brethren. 
Let  us  honor  the  memory  of  our  departed  brethren,  who, 
under  Heaven,  made  us  a  nation  by  an  adherence  to  their 
principles ;  by  practising  those  virtues,  moral  and  social, 
public  and  private,  the  possession  of  which  rendered  them 
so  good,  so  amiable,  so  great  and  illustrious.  Thus  shall 
we  become  blessings  to  ourselves,  our  families,  our  friends, 
and  our  country;  be  an  honor  to  Freemasonry  and  to 


PATRIOT- MASONS.  269 

human  nature.  Though,  from  a  variety  of  causes,  we  can- 
not equal  Warren,  Franklin,  Washington,  and  Clinton,  in 
extensive  usefulness  to  our  own  country  and  the  world  at 
large,  yet,  by  practising  the  same  virtues,  we  may  be  use- 
ful, honored,  and  happy. 

Though  it  fall  not  to  our  lot  to  possess  the  great  mental 
abilities  of  Washington  and  Franklin;  though  circum- 
stances may  be  such,  that  we  can  never  have  it  in  our  power 
to  cultivate  our  minds  to  the  extent  they  did,  yet,  by  a  care- 
ful culture  of  our  hearts,  we  may  raise  a  character  for 
virtue  and  goodness,  which  shall  eclipse  the  most  splendid 
abilities,  when  unaccompanied  by  virtue,  and,  in  the  circle 
in  which  we  move,  however  small  its  circumference  may  be, 
produce  a  richer  harvest  of  usefulness  to  mankind.  "  The 
memory  of  the  just  is  blessed,"  but  this  happiness  does  not 
always  fall  to  the  lot  of  splendid  abilities.  How  many  are 
condemned  to  everlasting  fame,  like  Arnold,  without  pos- 
sessing virtue  enough  to  endear  them  to  a  single  individual ! 
Let  him,  then,  who  wishes  for  the  friendship  of  his  fellows, 
practise  those  virtues  which  shall  command  their  esteem. 
The  practice  of  virtue  brings  its  own  reward  along  with  it. 
He  who  governs  not  himself  is  unfit  to  govern  others. 
Think  you,  my  brethren,  that  Franklin  and  Washington 
would  have  occupied  the  high  stations  which  they  filled, 
with  so  much  honor  to  themselves,  so  much  usefulness  tG 
mankind,  had  they  not  learned  to  subdue  their  passions  ? 
They  practised  this  first  lesson  taught  by  Masonry  with 
singular  felicity.  Temperance,  prudence,  industry,  and 
economy,  lead  to  long  life,  to  health,  to  wealth.  He  who 


ISO  PATRIOT-MASONS. 

trains  up  his  children  in  the  way  they  should  go,  will 
generally  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  them,  when  arrived 
at  maturity,  still  walking  in  those  ways.  He  who  regards 
truth,  shall  be  confided  in,  trusted,  and  believed.  He  who 
is  just  to  others  shall  himself  be  treated  with  justice.  The 
company  of  the  just,  the  amiable,  and  the  good  man,  shall  be 
sought  after  by  the  just,  the  amiable,  and  the  good.  Con- 
tentment shall  dwell  in  his  breast,  light  up  his  countenance 
with  smiles,  render  his  life  happy ;  his  death  shall  be 
lamented  by  others,  and  peaceful  to  himself. 

What  a  vast  difference  between  such  a  one  and  a  vicious 
man !  The  very  countenance  of  the  latter  is  stamped  with 
base  and  disgusting  passions.  No  peace,  no  mildness,  no 
serenity  dwells  there,  but  hatred,  avarice,  envy,  and  malice. 
Nor  is  the  practice  of  virtue  inconsistent,  as  some  vicious 
men  would  insinuate,  with  the  possession  of  the  greatest 
talents,  natural  and  acquired.  The  greatest  and  best  men 
who  ever  lived  constantly  practised  the  humblest,  as  well  as 
the  most  exalted  virtues.  On  this  very  account,  Washing- 
ton, Warren,  Franklin,  Clinton,  Green,  and  a  long  list  of 
brethren,  who  are  now  no  more,  command  our  esteem,  as 
well  as  our  respect.  We  esteem  them  for  their  virtues,  we 
admire  them  for  their  talents.  As  far  as  is  in  our  power, 
let  us  imitate  the  examples  they  have  left  behind  them. 

My  brethren,  that  Holy  Book,  which  always  lies  open  in 
Dur  lodge  informs  us,  that  "  there  is  another  and  a  better 
world"  beyond  the  grave,  and  another  lodge  eternal  in  the 
heavens,  to  which  *o  one  can  ever  be  admitted,  who 
attempts  to  carry  t'n/%  it  any  weapon,  offensive  or  defen- 


THE    MASON'S    BOAST.  261 

sive.  Those  weapons  are  vices  and  vicious  propensities,  of 
which  we  must  be  divested  before  we  can  be  invested  with 
the  true  lambskin,  as  a  badge  of  our  innocence.  The 
"  theological  ladder"  which  Jacob  saw  in  his  vision  is  the 
only  means  by  which  we  can  ascend  to  heaven,  the  three 
principal  rounds  of  which  are  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity. 
Mounting  aloft  upon  these  rounds,  may  we  all  ascend, 
and  by  the  benefit  of  a  pass-word^  which  is  a  Saviour's 
righteousness,  be  admitted  by  the  grand  tyler,  Death,  into 
the  inner  temple  above,  and  at  the  proper  season,  after  our 
work  is  over,  be  permitted  by  the  Grand  Senior  Warden  of 
the  Celestial  Lodge  to  refresh  our  weary  souls  forever. 


KSS    M&8D3'8    3BASS. 

OLD  Time  may  keep  beating,  his  numbers  completing, 

And  wear  out  his  wings  in  the  region  of  years  ; 
But  wisdom  and  beauty  shall  teach  us  our  duty, 

Until  the  Grand  Master  in  glory  appears. 
The  world  may  keep  gazing,  their  senses  amazing, 

And  wreck  their  inventions  to  find  out  our  plan  . 
With  candor  we  meet  them,  and  prove  as  we  greet  them 

That  Masons  respect  every  virtuous  man. 

Let  envy  degrade  us,  and  scribblers  invade  us, 

And  all  the  black  regions  of  malice  combine ; 
Though  demons  and  furies  turn  judges  and  juries, 

With  innocent  lustre  the  order  will  shine. 
Like  rocks  in  the  ocean,  we  fear  not  the  motion 

Of  waves  which  assail  us  in  foaming  career  ; 
With  truth  and  discretion,  we  still  make  progression, 

And  leave  all  the  envy  of  fools  in  the  rear. 


2>-2  THE    TEMPLE. 


XXI   X3XXX3. 

AND  he  brought  me  thither,  and  behold,  there  was  a 
man,  whose  appearance  1001  like  the  appearance  of  brass, 
with  a  line  of  flax  in  his  hand,  and  a  measuring-reed  ;  and 
he  stood  in  the  gate. 

And  the  man  said  onto  me,  Son  of  man,  behold  with  thine 
eyes,  and  hear  with  thine  ears,  and  set  thine  heart  upon  all 
that  I  shall  shew  thee ;  for  to  the  intent  that  I  might  shew 
them  unto  thee  art  thou  brought  hither :  declare  all  that 
thou  seest  to  the  house  of  Israel. 

Then  came  he  unto  the  gate  which  looketh  towards  the 
east,  and  went  up  the  stairs  thereof,  and  measured  the 
threshold  of  the  gate,  which  was  one  reed  broad  ;  and  the 
other  threshold  of  the  gate,  which  was  one  reed  broad. 

He  measured  also  the  porch  of  the  gate  within,  one  reed. 

And  there  were  seven  steps  to  go  up  to  it,  and  the  arches 
thereof  were  before  them :  and  it  had  palm-trees,  one  on 
this  side,  and  another  on  that  side,  upon  the  posts  thereof. 

And  he  brought  me  into  the  inner  court  towards  the 
east :  and  he  measured  the  gate  according  to  these  mea- 
•Mi, 

The  length  of  the  porch  was  twenty  cubits,  and  the 
breadth  eleven  cubits;  and  he  brought  me  by  the  steps 
whereby  they  went  up  to  it :  and  there  were  pillars  by  the 
poets,  one  on  this  side,  and  another  on  that  side. 


THETEMPLE.  263 


And  Solomon  made  all  the  vessels  that  pertained  unto  the 
house  of  the  Lord :  the  altar  of  gold,  and  the  table  of  gold, 
whereupon  the  shew-bread  was ;  and  the  candlesticks  of 
pure  gold;  five  on  the  right  side,  and  five  on  the  left, 
before  the  oracle  ;  with  the  flowers,  and  the  lamps,  and  the 
tongs  of  gold ;  and  the  bowls,  and  the  snuffers,  and  the 
basons,  and  the  spoons,  and  the  censers  of  pure  gold ;  and 
the  hinges  of  gold,  both  for  the  doors  of  the  inner  house,  the 
most  holy  place,  and  for  the  doors  of  the  house,  to  wit,  of 
the  temple.  So  Hiram  made  an  end  of  doing  all  the  work 
that  he  had  made  king  Solomon  for  the  house  of  the  Lord. 

And  he  'set  the  cherubims  within  the  inner  house ;  and 
they  stretched  forth  the  wings  of  the  cherubims,  so  that  the 
wing  of  the  one  touched  the  one  wall,  and  the  wing  of  tho 
other  cherub  touched  the  other  wall ;  and  their  wings 
touched  one  another  in  the  midst  of  the  house. 


MASONRY. — Enter  the  door  of  Masonry,  and  you  will 
there  find  an  Order  whose  object  it  is  to  curb  intemperate 
passions,  to  restrain  the  spirit  of  ambition,  and  to  teach 
charity  and  forbearance  to  individuals,  justice  and  integrity 
to  governments,  humanity  and  benevolence  to  nations :  to 
banish  from  the  world  every  source  of  enmity  and  hostility, 
and  to  introduce  those  social  feelings  on  which  depend,  in  a 
high  degree,  the  peace  and  order  of  society. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


22Feb'57BP 

REC'D  LD 

FEB  8    1957 

OCT  3  1  1998 

LD  21-100m-6,'56 
(B9311slO)476 


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YB . ! 1 729 


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